The Maker Page 7

  “Thank you, I appreciate your offer, but I think I’d rather just get this over with. My shift’s almost over. I’ll leave for home as soon as we’re finished here.”

  She nodded and returned her attention to his file. “In that case, if there’s nothing you’re concerned about with regard to your own health, I’ll get you to take off your shirt.”

  Bryce couldn’t help it. He blushed. And not just a little heat up the side of his neck. No, this time his whole face flamed. It was ridiculous. He was thirty years old, and married to boot. Being asked by a female doctor, no matter how gorgeous, to remove his shirt shouldn’t have him blushing like a teenager. It was beyond embarrassing.

  In an effort to avoid looking at her, he pushed back from his chair and turned away. His hands went to his tie and he loosened it and tossed it onto the examination table. As quickly as possible, he undid the buttons on his shirt and tugged it off. It went the same way as the tie. Keeping his gaze directed at some point above the doctor’s head, he waited for her next move.

  She appeared completely unaware of his discomfort. In silence, she took the stethoscope from around her neck and stepped closer.

  “I’ll get you to hop up on the examination table so I can listen to your chest.”

  He did as she asked and a moment later, she pressed the cold metal disk against his skin. He remained still. The sleeve of her lab coat brushed up against him. It was all he could do not to react.

  It had been a long time since he’d been this close to a woman half naked. She might be a doctor, but there were certain parts of his anatomy that didn’t give a shit about her profession. He only hoped she didn’t ask him to drop his pants. He tried to remember how the exam had gone down last year, but the best he could recall was that the doctor had been a man. The exam hadn’t left a lasting impression.

  “Take a deep breath for me,” she murmured and Bryce did his best to comply.

  “And again.”

  He repeated the effort and wondered if he’d lose points because of his rapidly beating heart. It wasn’t like he could hide it from her. She moved the stethoscope around to the back and once again, pressed it up against his skin.

  “Cough for me.”

  He coughed.

  “One more time.”

  He coughed again. She stepped back and nodded, appearing to be satisfied.

  “Everything sounds good. Your chest is clear, your heart rate’s normal-ish.” She grinned. He cursed silently.

  “I’m going to check your blood pressure and then I’ll give you a form to take to pathology. They’re right down the hall. They’ll take some blood from you so that we can test your glucose levels, liver function and STD status. They’re routine tests and I’m sure you’ll have nothing to worry about. As soon as they finish, you’ll be free to go.”

  He nodded. “Can I put my shirt back on?”

  She grinned again and her eyes sparkled with good humor. He caught his breath at the sheer beauty of it.

  “Shy, Detective?”

  He blushed furiously. “Not at all,” he managed. “It’s just that, the sooner I get out of here, the sooner I can get home and check on my grandmother.”

  She appeared immediately contrite. “Of course. This won’t take a minute. It’s easier to fit the cuff around your arm without your shirt, but as soon as we’re done, you can go ahead and get dressed. We can do the rest with your clothing on.”

  Once again, he caught the teasing glint in her eyes and wished he could respond in kind. She was so refreshing, so different to the doctors he’d come into contact with in the past. So unlike the doctors treating Angela.

  He frowned at the thought of his wife. He had no right even thinking about returning Chanel’s teasing. He was married. For all his failings, adultery wasn’t one of them. All of a sudden, he was more eager than ever to get out of there, away from the temptation the young doctor afforded. The minute she loosened the blood pressure cuff from around his arm, he spoke.

  “Are we done?”

  Surprise flared in her eyes at the shortness in his tone, but she refrained from commenting. Instead, she scribbled something on a form and handed it to him.

  “Pathology request. Right around the corner. Then you’re done.”

  “Thanks.” He felt a little bad about his gruff attitude, but getting out of there was foremost on his mind. His grandmother might be hurt, or worse. He wished he could believe she was the primary reason for his urgent need to escape.

  * * *

  Chanel stared after the detective as he made a hasty retreat. It had taken her a few moments, but she’d finally recognized him as the man she’d collided with at the elevators. He seemed such a mix of emotions, she couldn’t work him out. One minute he’d been friendly and open and the next, it was like he couldn’t get away from her quickly enough. He was an intriguing mix of contradictions, not the least being his admission that he lived with and cared for his grandmother.

  That kind of selflessness scored highly with Chanel. Family was incredibly important to her and she had a great deal of respect for anyone who thought highly of their own, especially the more elderly members of the clan.

  It seemed everywhere she turned there was less and less respect for the elders of their society. It saddened and maddened her at the same time, but she didn’t know what to do to change it. It was refreshing to find someone who had similar values to her own. Besides that, he was incredibly cute.

  She shook her head at the thought. How many times did she have to remind herself, she wasn’t on the lookout for a man? Her career was the only thing that mattered. Too bad that couldn’t keep her warm at night.

  * * *

  Bryce fitted his key in the lock and did his best to slow down the beating of his heart. Night was sneaking up on the day and the dusk around him was heavy with the scent of flowers. The fresh beauty of it reminded him of Chanel and he immediately scowled. Right now, all he should want was reassurance that his grandmother was all right. Taking a fortifying breath, he let himself into the house.

  The place was in darkness. Not a single light shone from any of the rooms. His apprehension shot up another notch. He swallowed the lump of fear that threatened to choke him and called out.

  “Grandma? Are you home?” His question was met with silence and a fresh wave of fear tightened his chest. Was this it? Was this the night he’d been dreading? The night he came home to find his grandmother dead?

  He wanted to shout out against the possibility. It was too soon. She wasn’t ready to die. He wasn’t ready to bury her. Trying hard to hold on to his panic, he called out louder.

  “Grandma, it’s Bryce. Where are you?”

  Once again, he was met with silence. Apart from the hum of an occasional passing car outside and the creak of the floorboards as he moved with increasing urgency from room to room, there was nothing.

  He found himself outside the closed door that led to his grandmother’s bedroom and braced himself for what he might find. With as much courage as he could muster, he turned the knob and eased open the door.

  The light from the corridor illuminated her slight form. She lay still and pale amongst the bedclothes, with the sheet pulled up under her chin. He reached over and switched on the lamp by her nightstand and then almost collapsed with relief. Her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm of reassurance.

  “Grandma!” he breathed, holding back a sob.

  Though he’d spoken quietly, her paper-thin eyelids fluttered open. She squinted at him through the dimness.

  “Hello, Grandson. You’re home early.”

  He shook his head, unable to speak. “No, Grandma,” he finally managed. “It’s nearly seven.”

  She scrunched up her brow and stared at him. “Seven? Are you sure? I only lay down for a few minutes, right after lunch. How could it be seven?”

  Bryce smiled down at her, relief at finding her alive still flooding through his pores.

  “I don’t know, but you scared me half to d
eath. I’ve been calling you all afternoon. You wouldn’t answer your phone.”

  “I’m sorry; I didn’t even hear it ring.”

  “It’s okay.” With his world suddenly righted, Bryce leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against the wrinkled skin of her cheek. “I’m just glad to know everything’s all right. I was worried about you.”

  His grandmother opened her mouth as if to remonstrate, but something in his expression must have given her pause. Instead, she nodded and graciously reached for his hand.

  “Thank you for caring enough to wonder if I was alive or dead. You’re the best grandson an old woman could ever wish for. Have I told you that?”

  He grinned and the fear and apprehension of the last few hours melted away. “Yes, Grandma, you’ve told me that. And right after that I tell you I’m your only grandson.”

  “Cheeky boy,” she scolded, but laughter filled her eyes.

  He winked at her. “What’s for dinner?”

  * * *

  It was way past late and Susan would be wondering once again where he was. Leo hated to give her another reason to rant, but there was nothing he could to about it. Duty called.

  The ward was quiet and the lights in the rooms had long since been extinguished. Muted conversation came from the direction of the nurses’ tea room, but he paid it no heed. Quietly, he made his way to Robyn Evan’s bedside.

  She lay in the darkness, with her eyes closed. The rise and fall of her chest accompanied by the wheezing of her lungs assured him she was still with this world, despite the fluid in her lungs. Every breath seemed to pain her and he could well understand why. She was slowly drowning.

  She drew in another ragged breath and the sound of it took him back decades earlier to the room where his mother had lain. Familiar feelings of helplessness overtook him and his hands began to shake. He clenched his jaw and told himself not to be stupid. He was no longer that helpless and frightened boy. He was a trained physician, skilled beyond measure. Nothing was beyond him.

  After awhile, his breathing returned to normal and he leaned over and smoothed away the tangle of hair that was plastered across Robyn’s forehead. He frowned. Her skin was damp and hot to the touch. She was burning up with fever. He cursed. The antibiotics weren’t doing their job.

  Another wave of helplessness surged through him and his hands fisted. His heart thudded so hard he could barely breathe. The woman would die if he didn’t do something about it. In sudden urgency, he reached across and punched the button for the emergency call. Footsteps scurried from all directions across the linoleum floor.

  “Doctor Baker, what is it?” a wide-eyed nurse called out, panic in her eyes.

  “It’s Mrs Evan. She’s not responding to the antibiotics. We need to try something else. Stat.”

  As he watched the flurry of activity around him, he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d done the right thing. Maybe it would have been better to simply let Robyn Evan die? He could ease her into a death, free from pain and suffering, all the while surrounded by her loved ones. Surely it was a better option than slowly drowning in her body fluids. He couldn’t imagine a worse way to die. He should know. He was a doctor.

  * * *

  Bryce stared at the blank screen in front of him and wished he could concentrate. Instead of the routine report he was attempting to file on a recent home invasion, his thoughts kept returning to his wife. It had been two days since the last message from her doctor and Bryce still hadn’t returned the call. It wasn’t that he didn’t know what had to be done. The doctors had told him long ago there was no hope for her recovery. There were zero signs of brain activity. It had been that way from the time she’d been brought in. He had to find the courage to make the decision and let her go.

  “Hey, Bryce, did you hear?”

  Bryce looked up. His partner, Jett Craigdon, stood in front of him, a grin widening his face. Bryce shook his head.

  “The boss just took a call from the prosecutor. Richard Wales is going to plead.”

  Bryce stared at his partner and tried to focus on what Jett had said. “Richard Wales?”

  “Yeah, the prick who held up the Commonwealth Bank. The turd we arrested and threw in an ambulance three weeks ago. His lawyer called the prosecutor. They’re going to plead.”

  “Will the prosecutor reduce the charges in return?”

  “No, that’s the best part. We caught the asshole red-handed. He’s got nowhere else to go. The prosecutor knows it and so does he. For once, the stars have aligned in our favor.”

  Jett grinned again and Bryce couldn’t help but join him. This was good news. With a criminal record an inch thick, it was likely that with a confession, Wales would be out of circulation for a hefty amount of time. Knowing there was one less career criminal on the street should have been cause for celebration—and it was—but the memory of the message from his wife’s doctor intruded and put a damper on his glee.

  “Hey, we’re out of here shortly. How about we go down to the Brewery Hotel and celebrate properly?”

  Any other time, Bryce might have been tempted by Jett’s offer, but with the knowledge of his upcoming conversation with Angela’s doctor on his mind, he couldn’t find it within himself to keep up the pretense of joviality.

  “Thanks, mate. I appreciate the offer, but I have a few things I have to deal with before the day’s done. See if Harry and Joe want to go. Those blokes don’t usually need much of an excuse to toss down a beer or two.”

  When Jett frowned, Bryce was reminded how perceptive his young partner was. “Is everything all right?”

  “Yeah, of course. Something’s come up. I need to sort it out, sooner rather than later.”

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  Bryce stared at the sincerity in Jett’s eyes and wished he could tell him the truth. It would be a relief to share the burden with someone. Apart from his grandmother and a handful of Angela’s friends and relatives he’d long ago lost touch with, no one had a clue that his wife had been in a coma for three years, kept alive only by the intervention of man and machine. But he resisted the urge to spill his guts. No use opening that can of worms. He’d be blithering like an idiot. His new partner didn’t deserve that. No one did.

  He shook his head and responded. “No, mate. But thanks for asking.”

  “Hey, we’re partners. We have each other’s backs, right?”

  Bryce nodded and forced a smile. “Right. I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a good night.”

  * * *

  Chanel forked another morsel of Beef Vindaloo off her plate and took the time to savor the spicy bite of tender meat on her tongue.

  “Mm, this is really very good. Maybe even the best curry I’ve ever eaten.”

  Tanya giggled at her from across the table. “That’s what you said last time. I thought you might be sick of it by now. We’ve been eating Indian almost every other night since I moved in.”

  “Are you kidding? I love Indian food.”

  “I’ll ask you in another six months and see whether you feel the same way.” Tanya laughed.

  “Hey, I’m always up for a challenge. Six months is plenty of time for you to find a few more recipes and expand your repertoire—secret herbs and spices known only to the Singh family.” She gave her friend a wink.

  Tanya reached across the table and took another crispy, homemade pappadum. The crunch of it filled the small but cosy room and the girls continued to eat in companionable silence. The faint sound of traffic hummed through the open windows that overlooked the street below.

  “So, I had a private little tête-a-tête with Doctor Baker today.”

  Tanya’s offhand comment was said with such a casual air, Chanel was sure she’d misheard.

  “Excuse me?” she asked around a mouthful of fragrant curry and jasmine rice.

  “Doctor Baker. He asked me to wait back after he’d distributed this week’s rosters.”

  Memories of the private meeting she’d had with Doctor Baker bombar
ded Chanel. Unaware of her silent turmoil, Tanya continued to speak.

  “His wife wasn’t there this time and just was well.” Tanya giggled like a naughty teenager and lowered her gaze.

  A sense of foreboding started deep in Chanel’s belly and all of a sudden her appetite disappeared. She set down her fork and focused her attention on the woman seated across from her.

  “What are you getting at?” she asked, fighting to keep her voice even.

  Tanya’s grin widened. “Look at you, getting all serious. It was nothing. He propositioned me, that’s all.”

  “He propositioned you?” Chanel tried to keep the anger out of her voice, but failed miserably. She nearly groaned aloud when Tanya looked offended.

  “Is that so hard for you to believe? We can’t all be blond and built like a fashion model. You’re not the only kind of woman men find attractive.”

  Chanel shook her head back and forth with increasing urgency. “No, no, Tanya. I’m sorry. You misunderstood. I didn’t mean—”

  “To be shocked at the very thought of a man like Doctor Baker making a pass at the likes of me. Is that what you meant to say?”

  “No, please. Stop putting words in my mouth. I didn’t mean that all!” She tried desperately to make her friend understand. “You took me by surprise, that’s all. I-I’m shocked Doctor Baker made a pass, period. It has nothing to do with you. Of course, I can understand his interest. You’re gorgeous! You’ve got what it takes to drive men wild, but Doctor Baker is our boss. Our married boss. He shouldn’t be propositioning anyone.”

  Tanya shrugged, appearing unaffected by the immorality of the doctor’s actions. “You’ve seen his wife. Does she look like she puts out for anyone? She’s probably too concerned about getting her perfect hair mussed to get up close and personal with her husband.”

  Chanel stared at Tanya, aghast. “What did you say to him?” she forced herself to ask.

  “I told him I’d think about it.”

  “You what?”

  Tanya shrugged, continuing with her insouciant attitude, but Chanel noticed her rooomate wouldn’t meet her gaze.