Code Triage by Candace Calvert Read Free Book Online Page B

brother’s lonely house and Nick kept her company. He put aside his own grief to make Elisa giggle, carried her on his shoulders, bought her a balloon at the zoo. Then awakened beside me in bed.
    But now, his guilt, his distance, the pain in his eyes . . . She glanced toward the doorway, at staff in scrubs in the distance. And at the female doctor in a white coat. She’s divorcing him. I can wait another week.
    “She’s cute,” Kristi said, the wariness in her eyes receding slightly. “When Abby was that age, her daddy took us to Disneyland, and . . .” She glanced down.
    Sam lifted a page of her report, the rustling sound deafening in the awkward silence. “The restraining order is still in effect against Kurt Denton.”
    “I haven’t seen him. I swear.”
    Sam pulled her fingers through her hair, still surprised at the feel of the short tufts. “Having him in your home, around the children, is not an option. Having him deal methamphetamines out of that apartment, bringing strangers of all kinds into contact with those children—” she fought a shudder, ugly, shadowy memories of her own childhood trying to intrude again—“ cannot happen. If I have even the smallest suspicion that it is—”
    “It’s not!” Kristie blurted, causing Abby to open her eyes and whimper. She shushed her gently. “I swear. And I’m clean; test me. Go ahead. Test me.”
    Sam smiled grimly. “They already did. And you are.” She spread her hands on top of the papers. “You’ve had no contact with Kurt Denton?”
    Kristi kissed her daughter’s temple, then tucked the stuffed pony under the gurney sheet. “No. He’s gone. I don’t even know where.” She raised her eyes to Sam’s again. “I’m trying, Miss Gordon. I’m trying every day, with everything I have, to make this work. To be a good mother, and . . .” Her voice broke, tears welling. “Last night was a horrible mistake. My girlfriend was supposed to be there. She called me just before you came, to explain. She was sick and left a message on my cell phone, but I didn’t get it. Because I ran out of minutes. I don’t have a credit card, and . . .”
    “You had to heat your apartment with a camp stove,” Sam added. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard something like that. It wouldn’t be the last. But excuses didn’t cut it.
    “I have the money now.” Kristi lifted her chin. “My girlfriend’s coming to get my check. She’ll have my power turned back on. And buy me a phone card. This won’t happen again.”
    “It can’t, Kristi. And even with your recent good efforts—your work record, the clean drug tests, parenting classes—I can’t promise what Child Crisis will decide. Your son remains in danger. And I still have to talk with Dr. Stathos.”
    Kristi’s eyes darted toward the doorway and Sam turned. Nick leaned against the doorframe, black hair tousled, beard growth even more prominent, faint shadows under his eyes.
    “Excuse me,” he said, summoning a small smile for Kristi. His gaze returned to Sam, and she was struck again by the pain in his eyes—and something that looked impossibly like fear. It made her want to run to him, hold him, offer the comfort he’d given her so many months ago. It made her want . . . so much more. He nodded. “I’m leaving, I guess.”
    She guessed that his wife had asked him to.
    “Unless you need me for anything?” He raised his brows.
    Don’t ask that. “No.” She glanced at the young mother. “I’ve told Kristi that we talked. Temporary decisions will be made when she’s ready for discharge. And she knows that I still need to talk with Dr. Stathos regarding her son.” She could feel Nick’s tension even before she turned to look at him.
    “Well . . . okay.” His lips pressed together for a moment. “I’ll check with you later, then.”
    “Good.”
    As she watched him walk away, Kristi spoke. “My doctor’s last name is Stathos. Is she his wife?”
    “Yes,” Sam