Under Suspicion

“I’ll be on my way shortly.”

“It’s a little after seven now.” There was a pause. “You might want to be prepared for the worst.”

At that moment, Karah Lee realized that she never would be.

Shona rushed to the ER reception desk, breathless from her run from the parking lot. “I need to see my father, Kemper MacDonald. He was just brought in by ambulance.”

“Oh, ma’am, I’m sorry,” the secretary said gently. “Your father is in critical condition in the trauma room. They’re doing everything they—”

Shona saw the door to the ER swing open as someone stepped out. She rushed forward and grabbed it before it could close and lock her out.

An older nurse looked up from her work at the busy central desk and intercepted Shona. “May I help you?”

“I need to find the trauma—” Shona spotted a room where several medical personnel were gathered and headed in that direction.

“I’m sorry,” the nurse said, rushing forward to catch her by the arm. “You can’t go in there right now. We’ll call a chaplain and show you to the family waiting room.”

“Kemper MacDonald is my father. My name is Shona Tremaine.”

“I know who you are, ma’am. I’ve seen you on the news.”

Shona tried to pull free, but found the woman surprisingly strong. “Please, I need to get to him.”

“Not right now, you don’t,” the nurse assured her gently. “They’re attempting to resuscitate him.”

Shona gasped. The room threatened to fade around her. “Resuscitate! He’s dead?”

“I assure you, they’re doing everything they can. He’s unresponsive right now. We’ll do our best to keep you updated.”

“Please.” Shona took a deep breath to steady herself. “I need to be there. The doctor may have questions only I can answer. I live with my father, and I know more about him than anyone. I promise not to get in the way.”

The woman’s grip eased slightly, the lines around her brown eyes deepening as she focused on Shona, as if to measure her words. “It isn’t a pretty sight.”

“I’m the one who found him. I don’t expect it to be pleasant.”

The nurse nodded and released Shona’s arm, though with obvious reluctance. “You can stand by the window over there, but don’t get in the doorway. There’ll be people coming in and out.”

“The press may come looking for me here. Would you please not give out any information about my father?”

“It’s against federal regulations to do so, Mrs. Tremaine. Anyone who does will be fired.”

Shona nodded. “Thank you. My…husband may show up looking for me. His name is—”

“Geoff Tremaine? He won’t be hard to recognize. Do you want us to let him know where you are?”

She wanted her husband, Geoff, not the reporter. She sighed. “If he does show up, it’s okay, but no camera team, and no one except Geoff.”

“We wouldn’t do it any other way.”

Shona thanked her. She knew her switch wouldn’t deter him for long. He would figure out soon enough where she had taken Dad.

Steeling herself for what she might see, Shona rushed to the trauma room and tried to peer in the glass windows through small gaps between the slats in a blind.

She could see little except medical equipment, a monitor and people in multicolored scrubs and masks standing around the trauma bed. She strained to hear anything encouraging through the verbal cacophony that filtered through the door.

“Central line is in. Stop CPR. What’s the rhythm?”

“Still PEA.”

Shona caught her breath. She’d learned enough from her sister to know that meant pulseless electrical activity.

Very bad.

“Continue CPR.”

“Got it.”

“We need to push some volume back into his circulation. Get that O negative blood in now. How much longer on those four units of fresh frozen plasma?”

“Lab said just a few more minutes. They have to thaw them first.”

“Where’s the 20 milligrams of vitamin K? I wanted it stat.”

“Right here, Dr. Morris.”

“Give it IV push.”

“But doctor, what about the risk—”

“I’m not worried about the risk of anaphylactic shock at this point, Carrie.” There was tension in the doctor’s voice. “He’s bleeding to death, and we don’t know what’s causing it. He needs it IV. Now. And someone see if there’s a family member here who knows what’s going on.”

Shona caught her breath. “I’m his daughter!” she called, stepping to the door. She gasped, suddenly overwhelmed by what she saw.

Blood. There was blood everywhere, on the bed, on Dad’s body, on the hands of the staff, on the instruments they were using on Dad’s hideously battered flesh.

Without warning, a wave of nausea overwhelmed her. She turned away, doubling over, fighting to keep her gorge down.

Someone caught her from behind and placed a basin in front of her just in time.

“That’s why we don’t like people coming back at times like this,” came the gentle-sad voice of the older nurse as Shona gave up all pretense of dignity.

Past humiliation, Shona retched, miserable and terrified. No one could bleed as much as Dad was doing and live. She was losing him.

Geoff raced into the parking lot of the ER at Bradley-Cline Hospital and pulled into a nearby slot, scanning the area for Shona’s Escalade or Kemper’s Seville, which she often drove. He recognized none of the vehicles.

He frowned at the ambulance bay. There was no way he could have beat the ambulance here, but he couldn’t have been so far behind them that the ambulance was already gone, could he?

It was possible, if they had another hot call.