We All Sleep Alone (Finley Creek #11) - Calle J. Brookes Page 0,45
both arms and both legs. That’s a good sign. A really good sign. He’s young, strong, and healthy. He should pull through just fine.”
She let out a breath at his words. He didn’t seem to be lying to her. Compassion was in his gray eyes.
She’d always thought he had beautiful eyes. Gray, with the smallest hint of blue around the outer edges. There was a lot of character in his face now, more than had been there when she’d first met him more than half a dozen years or so ago.
He was a tall man. He looked over her shoulder easily, and his face tightened.
Jennifer turned reflexively—in time to see a trio of young women walking down the hall, deep in discussion over what appeared to be a file in their hands.
She recognized them almost instantly. She’d met Dr. Finley Coulter many times before; frankly, Jennifer wasn’t that impressed. The woman appeared flighty and flaky.
It was the other two women that made her want to scream and scratch their eyes out.
Jennifer had always had a vicious side where other women were concerned. She embraced that fact. There was no one on the planet she wanted to claw at more than those two little smug bitches right there.
“If you’ll excuse me? I need to consult with another surgeon.” Dr. Jacobson stepped around her, not giving her time to reply.
He walked with a sure step straight to those women. She watched as he wrapped his strong fingers around the dark-haired whore’s elbow and stopped her right there in the hallway.
Jennifer stood there, rage making her almost ill, as he redirected the trio. Focus. She had to focus. She couldn’t afford to forget why she was there today.
Reggie; it was all about Reggie now.
She pulled in a deep breath and stepped into her son’s room. He was where she had to focus now. There would be time to get back at Izzie MacNamara and Nikkie Jean Netorre later. That bastard Jake MacNamara who just wouldn’t stay out of her business at all.
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Allen was crowding her. Izzie barely had time to look up into his face before she felt herself turned almost fully around and practically dragged down the hallway toward PICU.
“What’s going on? Is the building on fire or something?”
He looked at the other two women with her. They’d followed Allen like a pair of tiny ducks. “Fin, take Nikkie Jean back down stairs. I don’t want her going down the 300s hallway.”
Nikkie Jean scowled up at him, looking ridiculous with her hair braided in two pigtails and cartoon unicorns on her glasses today. “Why for, Lieutenant? You have some explaining to do.”
“Wallace Henedy’s wife just went into her son’s room. I don’t want a confrontation between you two and her. Not today. He was shot last night, shortly before the deputy mayor.”
Izzie gasped. She’d seen Wallace Henedy’s son before. He’d been in a car accident at around the same time that she was in the hospital. They’d both been patients on the fourth floor and had come face to face—while she’d been wearing alien pajamas. He hadn’t seemed anything like his father at all. “What’s his prognosis?”
“Most likely a full recovery.”
Nikkie Jean’s name was paged over the intercom, and she straightened. “Aye-aye, Lieutenant. I’ll avoid this area. Come on. Fin, you can be my babysitter while Allen whisks Izzie away in the other direction.”
Then Nikkie Jean was gone, dragging Fin with her, after shooting a wink at Izzie and a significant look at Allen.
Izzie try to figure out what that was all about. She had no clue.
Sometimes with Nikkie Jean, there was no way to know what the woman was really thinking. Or plotting. Nikkie Jean was a real plotter.
The hospital’s never-ending stash of chocolate pudding was proof of that.
Someone had seen to it that Izzie had chocolate pudding on her food tray almost every single day during those three weeks she’d been a patient. It had most likely been Nikkie Jean, who seem to have an in with the dietary staff.
“I need to get back downstairs. Nikkie Jean took the paperwork I was fetching for Cherise.” Izzie looked up at the man still holding her arm in his firm, warm grip and immediately forgot exactly what it was her supervisor had wanted from her, Nikkie Jean, and Fin. Just for a moment. “Thanks. The last thing I want to do right now is get into a confrontation with Wallace Henedy’s wife.”