The Nitrogen Murder(86)

“Of course,” Gloria had said. “That’s the best idea.”

Dana certainly couldn’t claim that Gloria was selfish or hard to get along with, and she was attractive enough for an old lady It wasn’t Gloria’s fault that Dana hadn’t found anyone her own age who was worth her time.

Now that things were getting cleared up, her life looked doable again. She might dig out those medical school applications and play up her EMT experience. Popular opinion was that it would go a long way to counteract her less than stellar academic performance.

As for dating possibilities, she’d exhausted the pool of guys at Valley Med; every eligible male was either an ex-boyfriend, like Scott Gorman, or a never-to-be, like Tom Stewart. And she’d already dated too many premed students. They all wanted to practice their phlebotomy procedure on her.

“It’s no fun pretending to draw blood from a straw,” Scott had told her as he stuck her arm.

She remembered how conscientious he was, getting down at eye level with the needle, so he could be sure to keep it between fifteen and thirty degrees. Too bad he wasn’t that meticulous about being faithful to her.

She might have to start doing the singles thing. Nah.





Dana’s phone call to her father was short, since her father was still being monitored by Nurse Bunting, but he was clearly happy and relieved that his ordeal might be over.

“You know, at the time that nagged at me, that Christopher mentioned the PDA, but I couldn’t put my finger on what was off kilter. Good for you, sweetheart.”

“It was Gloria, really,” Dana told him.

“But you were always on my side, I know, and that means a lot.”

Not always.

Dana remembered the Robin/Patel connection, still unresolved in her mind. But her recuperating father didn’t have to know that.



Dana sat in front of the TV in Elaine’s living room. She noticed Elaine had a new piece of furniture for her television set—an “entertainment center” that looked like a huge dresser, but with doors. She wondered if she’d ever have a home like this, where everything matched and all the prints were framed, or if she was doomed to stapled posters and dormitory decor forever.

“Make yourself at home,” Elaine had said when she went upstairs. Matt and Gloria went up, too, and Dana decided to hang around Elaine’s a little longer.

She’d put together a late-night snack of milk and crackers and peanut butter, too lazy to make popcorn with Elaine’s non-microwavable raw kernels. She got comfortable with an old Doris Day and Clark Gable movie. Good enough to stare at while she decided what to do next.

Dana hated to admit she was afraid to return to her own house. She hadn’t shown up there since she’d walked in on Robin and Julia shuffling papers, looking guilty (Julia) and angry (Robin). Jen, who seemed oblivious to the drama-filled days Dana had been having, had called to check on her, but she’d heard nothing from Robin, of course.

“Are you there alone?” Dana had asked Jen. She imagined Robin somehow taking her anger out on their petite roommate.

“Wes is with me. Why? I came back to get some things, and I thought as long as you’re not depressed or anything, I’d stay at his house.”

Sweet thought, Jen. “Do it,” Dana had said.

Dana tried to get her head around Tanisha’s being involved in the medical supply scam. Tanisha had had enough talent and personality for four; she could have made it without getting sucked into Julia’s scheme. Dana smiled, remembering the time Tanisha had talked down a crazy old guy. He’d been throwing furniture out the window of the convalescent home, yelling, “Satan is making me do it,” when they arrived. Everyone was afraid to approach him, except Tanisha. She’d put on a scary face and said, “I’m from Satan, and I have a message for you.”

That had stopped the guy just long enough for the paramedics to come in with straitjackets.

She tried again to come up with another reason for the wad of money under the mattress—ten thousand dollars in twenties—but she couldn’t. The irony was that Tanisha apparently hadn’t been shot over stealing the meds but because she happened to be carrying Patel’s duffel bag with some sweaty T-shirts and socks. At least that’s how it seemed.

Dana hoped that in time the old knock-knock Tanisha would prevail in her mind, and not the image of her friend tiptoeing around nursing-home medicine cabinets and making deals with the guys who monitored the hospital pharmacies. She also hoped everyone who participated in the scam would pay. She knew that a couple of Julia’s EMTs had already been suspended by the county office. Even so, it wouldn’t cost any of them as much as it had cost the Hall family.