A Shadow in the Desert

Chapter Four

Usually the ER moved at a slow steady pace, then suddenly, a bonafide emergency would erupt – shattering the calm façade and shaking the staff into heightened activity.

Laurel lived for those moments. She loved responding to the adrenaline pulsating through her veins. She could feel the acute awareness of her senses as she moved in concert with the immediate need in front of her. This made her an excellent trauma nurse.

Tonight, having been on duty for about three hours, a head-on car accident pushed through the doors.

"What do you have?" Laurel barked as she helped steer the transport stretcher back to an examination area.

The paramedic read off the vitals, then the obvious injuries he had ascertained at the scene and during the ride in. Just as the woman was transferred to an exam table, Laurel moved past several staff nurses and walked over to another stretcher being wheeled in. Without being asked the second paramedic began reading off vitals and apparent injuries. Laurel helped transfer the little girl onto an examination table and began cutting away her shirt as a doctor entered the cubical.

Within forty minutes, they had the adult female stable and transferred to a room, while the child had been moved up to surgery for a splenectomy. As things settled down, Laurel and another nurse checked to see that all the medication was inventoried and put back and that any loose needles were deposited in the hazardous material bin. Orderlies would take care of the rest, although Laurel often helped. It kept her busy and she could go over in her head what the team had done and how they could have performed better. This thoroughness made her the most requested nurse for the ER, although that wasn't the only reason.

She had caught the eyes of several of the doctors who hoped to move beyond a professional relationship with her. Her aloof manner kept most of them at an arm's length, but if the message was missed, then she would simply tell them to 'keep moving' – usually in those words.

*

Laurel stood five feet seven inches without shoes. She had a slender, athletic build while holding onto the soft curves and gentle peaks of her feminine body. Her black hair hung in relaxed, untamed curls that swirled around her face and tapered down the back of her neck. Her wide brown eyes were framed with thick, dark lashes and her slender nose gently sloped, ending in a slight upturn. When she thought about it, which wasn't often, Laurel considered her mouth to be her best feature. Her lips were full, some would say sensual; with her upper lip bowed in the center and turned up at the corners. Her lower lip widened in the middle as it formed a pouty crescent that sat above her pretty, rounded chin. Her tan, slightly olive complexion and her dark hair and eyes came from her Brazilian mother. The rest remained lost to her - gone with the young girl known only as Los Angeles County Jane Doe, who had died giving her life.

Part of Laurel's defensiveness had to do with her inability to carry on a simple conversation about herself. She had to walk through life as if she were suffering from amnesia. Most people were curious and asked about her ethnicity. She found herself making up information to fill the empty holes that swallowed her own questions, and consumed her true identity for the past 32 years.

*

Laurel sat at the desk, charting her notes from the car accident. A short time later, a relief nurse from day shift, having arrived early, sat down next to her.

"So, I just grabbed a morning paper on the way in. It says that the man and two boys the deputies brought in were murdered."

Laurel looked over at the older woman, who leaned in and continued in a lowered voice, "They were all shot." She shook her head and added, "The boys were only 8 and 10."

Laurel blinked at hearing such horrid news coming at her in such a sing-song, gossipy tone. Still, she wanted to know more. She glanced over, noticing the woman's name tag. "Did they catch who did it, Leona?"

The older woman perked up at being asked for more information. "No, they aren't saying much, but they haven't made an arrest. The father and boys weren't even from this area. The article says they're from Thousand Oaks."

"That's too bad," Laurel said, going back to her charting.

Seeing someone she knew, Leona jumped up and rushed off, taking the newspaper with her.

At the end of the shift meeting, Laurel received a little more information. The supervisor told the group that the three people – a father, and his two sons, were all shot with a rifle at close range. The man had been shot twice, the children once.

Protecting his boys. That's what parents do – I think.

*

"I'm here to see how the dog I brought in is doing," Laurel told the same girl as last time. "He was shot," she added when she saw her blank expression.

"Oh, okay. I'll get the assistant, just a minute."

Laurel went to look out the picture window in the waiting room. The morning sun, getting comfortable, was beginning to spread its golden blanket out over the valley. A light breeze stirred the branches in the oak trees dotting the front lawn. She noticed the yellow and orange colors beginning to bleed into the green leaves. Autumn is coming she thought, feeling a sharp pang of melancholy slice into her chest.

"Hi, I'm Tom. Are you here to see the Airedale?"

"Oh, hi," Laurel said, turning to face the young man holding out his hand. "Yes, how is he doing?"

"Good. He's lifting his head and drinking a small amount of water. Dr. Patterson is out, but his note said to tell you that he thinks the dog is going to pull through."

"That's great to hear," Laurel sighed as she followed the assistant down a long hall.

"Does the dog have a name? I didn't see it on his chart. He growled at me this morning. I thought maybe if I used his name he'd feel less threatened by unfamiliar surroundings.

"I don't know what it is. He just showed up at my place."

The hall opened to a large room where crates were lined against the far wall. Laurel saw the dog stretched out in the first enclosure. She immediately went over and knelt down. "Hey boy, how are you doing?" She put her hand up near his nose so he could sniff it. "You look better than the last time I saw you." She was surprised to see his stubby tail twitch, touched with a warm feeling upon witnessing the effort he gave to show how happy he was to see her.

"He'll need to stay here a few more days, then you can take him home - I guess."

Laurel looked up. "Right. I'll take him for the time being. Until we can find his owner." She looked at his sweet face, "I wonder who shot him."

"Probably a rabbit hunter. Dr. Patterson took out a 22 long rifle bullet from this poor guy," Tom offered.

"He doesn't look like a rabbit to me," Laurel quipped as a prickling sensation of alarm spread over her.

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