The Silent Widow

Sam Riley burst into the room at a run. Normally Good Samaritan’s most eligible surgeon would have stopped to exchange flirtatious pleasantries with the pretty, red-headed Nurse McManus. But there was no time for that today. This patient had to live. Sam had fought too hard to have it go any other way, not now.

‘What happened?’ he asked accusingly as he lifted each unresponsive eyelid in turn. The beeping had stopped now and the heart rate stabilized, but these sorts of abrupt losses of consciousness were not a good sign.

‘Nothing happened.’ Fiona defended herself. ‘I opened the curtains and she opened her eyes. She said “Hello” – she was calm at first, but then she quickly became agitated. She said she was dead, that she shouldn’t be here. And then she just, sort of, stopped.’

Dr Sam Riley looked down at the sleeping face of Dr Nikki Roberts. Sam had seen Dr Roberts before, on the news, as the famous Beverly Hills psychologist at the center of the Zombie Killings mystery. She’d looked beautiful then, on screen. No doubt that was one of the reasons the story had run for so long, despite there being no more victims or arrests. But she was even more beautiful in the flesh, regardless of the bruises, with her soft skin, dark eyes and fragile, feminine features. He hadn’t fully appreciated it before. He’d been too busy trying to save Nikki’s leg and repair the damage caused by Luis Rodriguez’s bullet as it tore through the flesh and ligaments.

The operation had gone as well as Sam could have hoped, but the risk of infection was ever present, as was post-operative heart failure.

‘Stop the morphine,’ he instructed Nurse McManus.

‘Reduce the dose, you mean?’ Fiona asked innocently.

Sam fixed her with a gimlet eye. ‘Is that what I said?’

‘Well, no,’ Fiona stammered. It wasn’t like Dr Riley to be so tetchy. Thanks to the media attention they were all feeling the pressure with this particular patient. ‘But the pain, Dr Riley. She’s going to need something.’

‘She needs to be awake,’ Sam said firmly, walking over and disconnecting Nikki’s morphine drip himself, replacing the bag with plain saline solution. ‘Besides,’ he added, looking down at Nikki’s bruised and scratched complexion, ‘I suspect this lady has a high tolerance for pain. She’s certainly used to it.’

He was right. When Nikki woke an hour later she was lucid, but her right leg felt as if someone were slowly pouring acid into an open wound. Gritting her teeth, she asked the nurse to give her something for the pain.

‘I can give you a strong ibuprofen with codeine,’ Fiona explained apologetically. It was late afternoon now, and the sun was throwing long shadows into the room, stretching all the way from the window to the head of Nikki’s bed. ‘I’m afraid Dr Riley’s said no more morphine or opiates.’

Nikki turned her head away, resigned. The pain had its upside. It reminded her she was still alive, although she still didn’t know how that was possible. The last thing she remembered was Lou Goodman, her friend, her savior, at one time almost her lover, pressing his gun to her head and preparing to shoot her.

‘You really are an incredibly stupid woman.’ Those had been his last words to her. And Nikki could only assume he was right, because she had no idea why Lou Goodman would want her dead, or why he’d killed Luis Rodriguez, if not to protect her? It made no sense. None of it made any sense.

What had happened after that was a total blank.

Crunching the pain pills the nurse gave her, she fought down a wave of nausea and began to ask some questions. The nurse seemed to know nothing about what had happened at the warehouse or how Nikki had survived. ‘You were shot in the leg and the ambulance brought you here,’ was all she said. She was more informative about what had happened since. Nikki had gone straight into surgery on arrival. Dr Riley had operated on her leg for nine hours. The operation had gone well and Dr Riley was ‘hopeful’, whatever that meant, that Nikki’s leg would now heal.

‘He can tell you more about that when you see him,’ the nurse said, smiling. ‘I’ve paged him to let him know you’re awake. And your other visitor’s still here. I don’t think he’s left the hospital since they took you in for surgery, bless him.’ She smiled, and Nikki noticed for the first time what a pretty girl she was, with her red hair and freckles. Wholesome was the word that sprang to mind.

‘What visitor?’ Nikki asked.

‘The cop,’ said the nurse. ‘The one who brought you in? He came with you in the ambulance. He’s been beside himself with worry, poor man.’

Nikki’s mind raced, full of confused images. Goodman had brought her in? But hadn’t he just tried to kill her? Or was that whole scene a figment of her imagination, some sort of delirium brought on by blood loss or … something?

‘Can I see him? The cop.’

‘Sure you can!’ the nurse brightened. ‘As long as you feel up to it. I’ll pop out and let him know.’

‘You will come back though?’ Nikki blurted, suddenly fearful. ‘I mean, you will stay with me, while he’s here? In the room? Just in case I … need anything?’

Fiona looked at her patient curiously. Dr Roberts had shown incredible physical bravery up till now. Most people would have hit the ceiling after a wound like that once they switched the morphine off. But this brave woman was visibly afraid at this moment.

Perhaps, after everything she’d been through, it was to be expected?

‘Certainly I’ll stay,’ Fiona said kindly. ‘And if you start to feel tired or need to rest, I’ll kick him out pronto, don’t you worry.’

She left, and Nikki lay there for what felt like an age.

What would she say to Goodman? What should she ask? She tried to think of possible, rational explanations for his words and actions at the warehouse, but there were none. And yet, he’d saved her – twice. He’d brought her here. Her palms started to sweat from fear and pain and she dug her nails into her flesh to try to distract herself. At last she heard footsteps and the nurse’s voice – ‘She’s right in here. She’s still very tired from the operation so try to be patient …’

The door opened. Nikki held her breath.

‘Hello, Dr Roberts.’ Detective Johnson’s fat red face lit up. ‘Welcome back!’