White Elephant Dead by Carolyn G. Hart Read Free Book Online

stretcher.
    Annie gave that limp, cold hand a squeeze, and stood to get out of the way.
    A burly medic with a calm face and bright blue eyes gently eased Henny onto the stretcher. He carefully strapped her down to keep her immobile for the trek to the ambulance. “Hypothermia,” his tall, thin partner murmured. They worked together to wrap that still form in wool blankets until only her face was visible, then expertly lifted the stretcher and moved briskly up the path.
    As they passed, Annie saw that Henny’s thin face was bluish with cold. Her eyes were closed. A swollen lump, the skin abraded, looked red and angry near her left temple.
    Annie followed the medics with their fragile cargo. As they reached the road and passed by the searchers who were gathering, called back by the sound of the ambulance siren, Annie waved at friends.
    “What happened?”
    “Is she hurt?”
    “Is she going to be all right?”
    “Yes. Yes, she’ll be fine.” Annie heard her voice, bold and confident. Inside, she was terribly afraid. That cold, cold hand and the uneven pulse. And Henny was old. She never acted old. She was bright and funny and brave and kind, but she was old. Dammit, who had hurt her! Annie felt the beginning of anger that crackled like a lightning-sparked blaze.
    Max sprinted up to Annie. “What does Henny say—” His flashlight swept the moving stretcher. He broke off.
    Annie grabbed his hand. “Max, I’ll go with Henny. You stay here. Try to talk to Billy and see what’s going on with the investigation. And,” she called back as they reached the ambulance, the red light whirring, “ask Emma to come to the hospital.”
     
    Annie paced in the emergency waiting room. The door marked ADMITTANCE was closed and no light shone through the pebbled glass. A blond wood counter curved in front ofthree desks, two computers and a bank of filing cabinets. During the night shift, a clerk logged in patients at the second computer behind the counter. Past the end of the counter, another door led to the cubicles for patients. Metal chairs with red leatherette seats were ranged against the wall next to a window that overlooked the emergency drive. A dumpy woman with wispy white hair huddled in a chair, her face splotchy from tears. A middle-aged couple held hands. The wife stared at the door to the emergency cubicles. Her husband spoke loudly, insistently, “He’ll be all right, Maude. Tommy’s tough. He’ll be all right.” But there was terror in his eyes. A thin black woman stood by the counter. “When can I go in to see my husband?”
    The wan-faced attendant glanced at her watch. “Pretty soon, ma’am. Please make yourself comfortable. I’ll come and get you when they’re ready.”
    Annie wondered if all the others felt as helpless as she. The nurse had shooed Annie out of the cubicle, saying briskly that they needed to get Henny ready to see the doctor and was she a close relative?
    A close relative? Annie almost said no, that Henny had no family, but she caught herself in time and simply said, “Yes.” She was darned if she was going to be banished altogether. And she was as close to Henny as anyone on this island. Henny couldn’t speak for herself now, she couldn’t fight for herself. But Annie could. It had taken a few minutes to fill out the paperwork and Annie was amazed how much she knew about her old friend. As for insurance, Henny was on Medicare. Annie promised to get her Medicare number and Social Security number as soon as possible.
    Now she paced, hungry, tired, worried and scared, knowing those sensations must be the common currency in every hospital emergency room. There was something so ominous about the door that didn’t open. What were they doing in there? Was the doctor with Henny? Was Henny still unconscious? How badly injured was she?
    The door opened. The orderly probably never equated himself with a ministering angel and there was nothing angelic about his crew cut that was alternately