"What can I do?" I asked. "How can I help Liz?"
"Well, the good thing is that Rikka has made so may enemies in every department that we'll have a fairly good chance of thwarting her with a proactive approach," Leslie said as she looked out from behind the curtain trying to find the resident. "The second thing is that we've got time on our side. No investigators will be in until morning, so if we can stall the resident, then we can give Liz a chance to recover a bit. I'll hook her up to an IV line, and we'll see if we can't flush her system out a bit just in case she did take something."
"Just tell me what to do," I said as I watched Leslie wipe Liz's arm with an alcohol pad and then quickly slide the needle into her vein. She hooked up the IV and slipped the bag onto the stand.
"You stand guard," Leslie said. "I'm going to clear out the rooms and get things quiet around here again, then we'll see how Liz is doing and get the resident in here to examine her."
I nodded as I watched Leslie disappear into the bustling ER. I turned and looked at Liz. She looked so small lying on the bed and she was unusually pale, even for her. For the next hour, I watched her like a hawk as Leslie did her best to steer everyone clear of the curtain.
"Liz," I whispered. "You're going to have to tell me what's going on when you wake up."
"Back the hell off, Pierce," Liz said in a sharp tone that she’d never used with me before now. “I’m just tired.”
It took Leslie two hours to clear the ER, and by then Liz was back on her feet and declared she felt fine.
"You're kidding me," I said, looking at her skeptically.
"Nope, not at all," she said. "I told you I just needed a nap. Let's get this needle out and get back to work. I'm sure they could use a hand or two about now."
"Liz, you're going to have to be checked out," I said as she tugged on the needle in her arm trying to decide if she was going to pull it herself. "Mrs. Rikka didn't give you a choice. You have to be seen by a doctor."
"Oh, bullshit," Liz said, sticking out her tongue. "That old biddy has no idea what I need."
"Liz, can you at least wait until Leslie comes back and pulls the IV?" I pleaded as I held her arm and hoped she'd listen to me.
"Fine, whatever." Liz sighed. "But get her back here soon to get it out, would you? I can't stand the way it feels in my arm."
I helped Liz back to the cot and to find Leslie who was in Trauma 1 finishing up the paperwork on another gunshot victim. There was blood all over the floor beneath the table, and I asked if she wanted me to clean it up.
"Nah, housekeeping will get in here when it's this bad," she said, waving me off. "You can't clean blood as well as they can."
"Liz is up and around and she wants the IV line out," I said. "She was trying to pull it herself and I stopped her. I...I...I..."
"You what, Alex," Leslie said in calm, kind voice.
"I don't know what's wrong with her!" I said as the tears flowed down my cheeks. "I'm worried about her, but I don't know what to do. She's been acting weird for weeks, but she swears there's nothing wrong."
"Classic addict behavior." Leslie nodded. "If you're not an addict or been involved with one, then you have no idea what it looks like."
"But I've known her for years and I've never seen her take drugs," I insisted. "I'd know if she was using drugs!"
"Oh, sweetie," Leslie said, shaking her head. "No, you probably wouldn't
. C'mon, let's go check on her."
When we got back to the cot where Liz had been, we found it empty. The bloody needle was lying on the floor with the IV fluid spreading out in a puddle around it. I shook my head as I quickly stopped the flow and did my best to mop up the mess with paper towels.
"Where do you think she's gone?" Leslie asked, then said, "Never mind, I bet I know where."
Leslie took off without another word, and I stood staring at the mess my best friend had left wondering what in the world was going on with her and why she felt she couldn't tell me.
Chapter Fifteen
Cam
I couldn't stop thinking about Alex as I walked Tesla and got ready for work. The soft curves of her body invaded my every waking thought, and I felt my body responding to the desire in a way that I hadn't felt in years.
But the more I thought about Alex, the more I also thought about Quinn. It was as if the awakened feelings were triggering a return to the guilt I'd felt after Quinn had died, and with every wave of pleasure, there was an accompanying wave of sadness and guilt. I drove to the station, trying to figure out how I would cope with the competing feelings.