F Paul Wilson - Novel 02 by Implant (v2.1) Read Free Book Online Page A

softly, sleeping off the general anesthetic.
But no Duncan .
                 Damn.
She'd missed him. He couldn't have got that far.
                 She
was half turned to leave when she saw Senator Vincent move his leg.
                 An
unfolding length of sheet revealed a spot of red on the white over his thigh.
She leaned closer.
                 Blood.
                 Just
a tiny spot. No more than a drop. But there shouldn't have been any blood down
by his leg. On his pillow, maybe, but not there.
                 She
lifted the sheet and looked at the senator's leg. A small, semicircular
puncture wound, less than a quarter inch in length on the outer aspect of the
thigh, slightly toward the rear.
                 She
probed the area around it and the senator moved again. Within the bandages his
lids struggled open. His glazed eyes stared at her, then closed again.
                 "Shot,"
he mumbled.
                 "What?"
                "Gave me shot."
                 "Who
gave you a shot?"
                "Docker Lafram." He
opened his eyes again and smiled. "Summin special. Only choice
patients." The senator smacked his lips and closed his eyes. He began to
snore.
                 Gin
stood over him. A shot? Since when did Duncan give injections?
                 Never.
It was unheard of.
                 Vincent
had to be wrong . . . and yet there definitely was a puncture wound in his
thigh.
                 She
adjusted the covers back over him.
                 Weird.
Very weird.
                 A
noise behind her made her turn. Collins was slipping through the door. She
glanced around. "He's gone?"
                "Gone when I got here. Did Dr.
Lathram say anything about giving the senator an injection?"
                Collins checked the order sheet.
"No. Just the usual, Tylenol, two P-O every four hours P-R-N."
                 "No,
I mean himself, giving the senator an injection himself."
                 Collins's
wide face broke into a grin. "Dr. D.? Giving meds personally? No way.
That's what us RNs are for. Where'd you get an idea like that?"
                "There's a puncture on his
thigh and he said something about Dr. Lathram giving him a shot." Collins
stepped over to the bed and examined his thigh.
                 "Hmmm.
Where'd that come from? Looks more like a tiny cut than a needle mark."
                 "He
said," Collins gave Senator Vincent's shoulder a gentle shake.
                 "Senator?
Are you awake?" He snorted and his eyes fluttered but didn't open.
                 "Okay,
Mom," he said.
                 Collins
grinned again. "You see? I'd sooner believe the Man in the Moon gave him
an injection than Dr. D. And besides, where's the syringe? Where's the
injection vial?" She had a point.
                 "You're
right." Gin turned and headed for the door. "I'm out of here. See you
Thursday." It was strange, it didn't add up, but Gin pushed it out of her
mind.
                 She
had other things to think about. Like her appointment with Congressman Allard
tomorrow morning. Another of Duncan 's patients, by the way. She'd assisted on
his abdominal liposuction a while back.
                 And
if he didn't work out, she could come back to Senator Vincent.
                 She
hadn't realized it when she signed on here, but here was one of the perks of
working with Duncan , If they had juice and they wanted cosmetic surgery, Duncan Lathram was
the man to see.
     

4
    DUNCAN
     
                 DUNCAN
Lathram, MD, STOOD AMONG THE EARLY morning regulars at the self-serve coffee
counter at the rear of the 7-Eleven on F Street off Fifth. Not exactly his purlieu. He felt
a little out of place in his pale blue oxford