TALL, DARK AND IMMORTAL
CHAPTER ONE
"Goodnight Doctor O' Neill!" the chorus rang out in the lower entry of University Medical Center. Dr. Evan O' Neill waved back at the three females in blue scrubs, smiles inviting and happy. "Ah," he said under his breath, "I guess this is what would be called a target-rich environment for any man looking for an attractive woman. . ."
His black leather Italian boots moved soundlessly across the black-and-white hospital tile, and he suddenly felt sad that he was not a man who would be looking for an attractive female anytime soon for anything other than as a much-needed professional at his side when he happened to be called up to the Emergency Department. Not his favorite place to work, by the way, but it did keep his skills keen. He much preferred the dark, cold silence of the Pathology Department; specifically, the morgue. The truth was, Dr. Evan O' Neill, the doctor the nurses, other female employees, and probably more than a few male "UMC" employees as well, had voted "Doctor Nevada" in the "America's Sexiest Single Doctors" contest held by Human Interest Magazine, had given up on finding a woman he could fall for. True, it was an embarrassing kind of tribute, one he would love to forget, but he supposed it was a kind of honor. Too bad he couldn't cash in on the tiny bit of notoriety to find his perfect match! Too bad Dr. Evan O' Neill considered himself a confirmed loner. As he reached the automatic door, he only had to halt his fluid stride for a second before it opened for him, and it was just long enough for him to whisper under his breath, "too bad." But this
was his life. As he stepped in the air-lock doorway, he ran into Ginny, just coming in for her 7-7 shift, a/k/a "the graveyard shift," which in this case, was eerily appropriate.
"Hi, Evan," she said with hurried familiarity. "Anything new for me today?"
Ginny, or, more specifically, Dr. Virginia Madison, MD, PhD, Chief Medical Examiner for Clark County, worked the morgue on the shift opposite of Evan, and often met him just so, as he was leaving, allowing them a brief encounter to catch up on what the night held for her, or what he had coped with during the day shift. Even though they left detailed notes for one another, a few spoken words could tell much more than many written words, so this little meeting in the hall was almost a ritual for the two of them. They were both scrupulously punctual, it seemed.
"Hey, I left you a couple of MVAs, died en route by airlift, probably nothing unusual, and also an elderly gentleman who was brought in DOA."
"Doesn't sound too bad—at least right now! How was your day?"
Evan realized that to anyone else, their conversation would sound pretty macabre, but they understood each other completely, spoke the same language, could speak in shorthand to each other and completely "get it." Ginny was observing him in her usual caring, intense and professional manner. It occurred to him that Ginny actually had a great bedside manner that was not particularly noticed by the dead. It helped to talk to her, so he spilled his feelings easily to her.
"I had a bad one this afternoon," he said, halting as he relived the pain of today's most disturbing death. "It was a young mom in labor—flat-lined before the baby was out—pretty sad."
Ginny touched his arm lightly. "Oh, gosh, Evan, that's rough. I'm really sorry. What happened?"
"Oh, ended up she popped a berry aneurysm. Who could have seen that coming? Nothing to be done, but I had a lot of sad family members in the waiting room for quite a long time. Plus, you know how it is here," he nodded as he looked around at the medical floor. "It was a pretty upsetting shift all around—you know how that kind of thing gets all over the place in about a half a minute. We had lots of long faces, and I really hate when I see that. Most of the time, we're a pretty upbeat group here." He looked down at the grate in the door where cool air shot through in the summer, warm in the winter. Today it was just air. Ginny waited silently, knowing he'd seen quite a bit of anguish today and needed to talk. "Really great family, too," he said, looking back up to her face. "First baby for the couple. Husband and her mom & dad were pretty upset about leaving her down here, but I reassured them I'd take good care of her until they decided where they wanted her to go. I'm sure they'll have her picked up tomorrow."
"Oh, Evan—that's so tough!" Ginny shifted her coffee and satchel to her other side and hugged Evan one-armed. Her mossy green eyes showed her compassion, and her chin-length reddish-blonde hair shone as she shook her head. Again, Evan thought about how much he liked Ginny—she was great at her job and they got along as well as anyone could, and there were very few people in the world who would give
him a hug, which was big in his lonely world. Sometimes he wished they could work together more instead of always being on opposite shifts, which they traded every month, with her switching to day shift and he switching to night. It worked out for both of them, since they had determined that they were night people by genetic determination, and switching shifts gave each of them some time off during daylight—her for her family, Evan for sleeping. Nobody but he knew that during the months when he worked the day shift, as now, he never slept.
"Thanks for the sympathy!" Evan said with total sincerity. So few people ever knew what went on in his life. Ginny was a rare exception. "You know, it was terrible, but the baby's okay—they got him out quickly and he's doing well, so at least the family can smile through their tears, so to speak."
"My God, I'm sorry—you do look pretty wrung out—for you, anyway! I hope you'll be able to sleep okay and not think about it?" She certainly understood how a case like this could keep you awake—it happened to her now and then, unfortunately. She took an extra moment to study the face of her colleague and thought for about the millionth time that he probably had one of the most beautiful faces she had ever seen, masculine as it was, it was a face a sculptor could only dream of copying. But the shadows under his eyes showed uncharacteristic strain, even though the beautiful azure blue eyes above the shadows looked clear and steady. As usual, she thought, he looked completely unruffled in any other way. Ever immaculately (and expensively) dressed, Dr. Evan could have just stepped from a GQ shoot. Amazing.
"Well, Ginny, pretty much nothing comes between me and my sleep." He smiled that little half smile that melted half the hearts in the hospital, and gave her arm a gentle squeeze as he took a breath and looked out at the twilit beginning of night. "Thanks, but I'll be fine and well rested when I get back here tomorrow. You have a good shift and I'll probably see you on your way out—okay?"
"You got it. See 'ya later—and be sure to call or drop by if you need to talk." Ginny squeezed his arm once again, noting the firm consistency that spoke of muscles which could be achieved only by hours and hours in the gym. She thought of her husband, Scott. Oh well! He was a great guy! Evan and Ginny both headed in opposite directions, he going for his car, and she heading off to the shiny silver emporium that was theirs—off to do the unseen things that needed to be done, things people didn't want to even think about, but things so necessary to human life. At least Evan had drawn the bad case of the day! Nobody wanted to deal with that! Funny thing, though, he looked only slightly more tired than you might expect, and nothing, not even shadows under his eyes, could mar a face that perfect. Ginny shook her head. Dr. O' Neill was certainly an enigma—he had untold stamina and was probably the most stable, unflappable doctor on staff. It wasn't that he didn't care, she thought, but just that he seemed to deal with things in a different way than the rest of them. Hmmmm, she thought, he must be really religious. She had thought about this before as she wondered just why he so often seemed almost too calm in the midst of chaos.
She strode through the steel double door with the sign that said "MORGUE" and all thoughts of Evan O' Neill began to fade as she began her shift. "I'm here, so bring it
on!" she nearly sang under her breath, causing her assistant, Josh, to look up and smile. Oh, yeah. Ginny did love her job!
Up in the nurses' lounge on third floor, Bailey Shehan, RN, watched Dr. Evan O' Neill walk across the square to the car park where he kept his navy Porsche in his special two-car corner stall. The sun was getting low in the sky—it was October—but she could still see the elegant way he walked in his immaculate designer clothes. 'How could any man be so perfect?' she wondered to herself, then said aloud, "Look at that—there goes Dr. Delicious." Lucy Bainbridge, her slightly younger twenty-something assistant floor nurse, came quickly to the window beside her, paper coffee cup in hand, sipping her strong, heart-starting brew, giving her blonde, straight, chin-length hair a little shake. The action was involuntary, Bailey noted. Lucy seemed to flip her hair one way or another whenever she ran into a handsome man, even if he was many yards away, walking to his car. It hit Bailey as comical. Lucy was always on the hunt! They both stood in the window, watching their favorite fantasy walk as they sipped strong coffee to help them ensure that their eyes would be fully open for another night shift. Sometimes they went through pots of the stuff if it was a boring night. Tonight might not offer too much downtime on the surgery floor—occupancy was nearly at capacity. That was probably better than being bored, Bailey thought to herself. Dr. O'Neill disappeared into the large parking structure. They both sighed and gave each other the look. The look that said what both were thinking—'I wonder where he's going, and why can't I go with him?'
"Yum, yum, gimme some!" Lucy said aloud with unadulterated lust in her voice. "I wonder what it is about that man that makes him seem so unattainable?"
"Hmffff," Bailey snorted. "He's got an ego bigger than Snarky's ass," she said with feeling. "And I'd say he seems unattainable because he is unattainable! What a waste!"
Lucy sighed in agreement. "I know. It's a gigantic waste! What is he? Some kind of eunuch? He doesn't seem gay at all, but have you ever seen him date?"
"No, but he's no eunuch either. I think he has balls 'cause his voice isn't high and squeaky; plus, I know he has to shave. And. . .she looked at her friend knowingly, he has a nice crop of curly black chest hair—I've seen it when he wears v-neck scrubs." She turned away from the window and looked her buddy square in the eyes. Lucy was very attractive and never seemed to lack dates. "You know," she said seriously, I suppose I'd better be careful when I talk about Snarky's ass in the break room, huh? Next thing I know I'll be washing down OR's."
"Oh, yeah!" Lucy agreed. "Comments like that can come back and kick YOU in the ass, Bailey!" They both were snickering when the door burst open and a very large nurse with very dyed blonde hair done up in a French roll came steaming into the break room. She wore her huge scrubs loosely, probably to hide her belly, which looked as if it were hiding three sets of triplets. Today she was decked out in a faded rose color. Bailey noted that it brought out the redness of her puffy cheeks.
"How's your break going, girls?" the nasally tone rang in the room like a bell with a crack in it. The door thumped loudly closed behind a hugely obese 60-ish woman.
"Hi Shary," they answered together in a kind of sing-songy duet. Then Bailey offered: "We were just watching Dr. De-lish-us sashay across the green." Bailey deliberately strung out the nickname the nurses had for Dr. O' Neill.
"Well, might as well forget about him—I hear he's gay. Say, we got two lights flashing—probably need a couple 'a butts wiped is my guess—any time, girls." She went about putting together her coffee concoction in a manner that Bailey regarded as totally disgusting—half coffee, half cream and about six sugars. Yuck!
Lucy nudged Bailey and they sauntered toward the door. "I'll take door number one, you get door number two. . ." and out they went leaving Snarky to her coffee ministrations. As soon as they had left, she quick-stepped over to the window in time to see the sleek, dark navy Porsche glide out of the car park and onto the street heading east. "Oh, to be young again," she said, shaking her head sadly. "I'd turn him straight! That's for sure! Huh!" She headed back to her station, sipping her lethal coffee and humming an off-tune rendition of "Do That to Me One More Time."
Evan always enjoyed the ride home. His quiet, powerful car always relaxed him, even as he moved his right leg and arm in perfect synchronicity to shift from low gear to fast. Evan loved driving fast! He loved the hum of the powerful engine and the feeling of control he had as he steered, shifted and maneuvered through traffic. His superior sound system was equalized to the point of exquisite, ear-pleasing perfection. Tonight it was Debussy. Relaxing into the plush leather, which still smelled new, he began to feel his shoulders un-kink and his mind go to a peaceful place. He always counted on the half-hour commute to be his buffer between work and home. He entered the on-
ramp just off Charleston to gain access to the way home. At this time of night, Interstate highway 15, referred to by locals simply as "The Fifteen," wasn't crowded, especially heading southwest, past the back of "The Strip," and then on beyond it. He always enjoyed seeing the lights of the Las Vegas Strip, the beam of light from the Luxor heading off to outer space where even the astronauts could see it. What a fascinating city it was, he thought. Even after living here for several years, he never tired of the beauty he saw in the Valley of Lights. He was heading toward the city of Henderson, on the outskirts of the City of Las Vegas, though it wasn't at all out there by itself. Over the years, the city had spread to the mountains on all sides of the valley. He had simply chosen this locale because he could live in the hills with an un-obscured view of the lights of the magnificent valley below. It was breathtakingly beautiful at night, something he could always enjoy as he relaxed after a long day.
Most nights, Evan O' Neill spent his time reading or doing research on the Internet. Tonight he looked forward to getting back into a book he had just started, but first, a simple meal, a glass of 40-year-old Scotch, his music and his view. That was his life, pretty much, in a nutshell. Sometimes his friend Charles would stop by and they could discuss the world's problems. Charles had made his fortune long ago in the oil industry and now did not have to work, even though he still loved to keep busy investing what he had (adding daily to his fortune, which was mere sport to Charles!). He was only two years older than Evan, so their relationship was that of peers who respected one another, even though they lived very different lives. Evan liked to open his door and find Charles relaxing on his patio—Charles never felt any compunction about just letting himself in and getting comfy. Charles lived out at Lake Las Vegas, where movie
stars and sports figures all owned mansions that overlooked the water. That, too, was a peaceful place, but Evan did have one of the best views of the Strip, and Charles availed himself of his friend's panoramic vista often.
Evan roared up to the St. Rose Parkway exit and headed east, away from Southern Highlands and down toward Seven Hills, where he lived in one of those typical Vegas houses for the wealthy. Very large, umpteen rooms, most of which Evan never even used, a movie theater and an infinity pool overlooking the Valley. The best feature of all, Evan thought, was that his house was cut off from the rest. Above all, Evan loved his privacy! Evan's landscapers had finally finished planting two hundred trees around the border of the lot, leaving only the space that looked out from the high hill upon which he was perched where his patio allowed the most spectacular views of the sunsets over the mountains and at night, of course, the lights. All of it was necessary to Evan—the privacy even more than the view. He punched a button on his visor and a large, black gate opened before him. As he passed the security camera, he gave it a little nod, and continued on as the gate shut behind him. Looking up his private street, it made him happy to notice that the landscape job had done what it was intended to do—hide his house. All that was visible from behind the myriad giant palms and tall pine trees was the pointed tile roof of his turret. Ah, home sweet home!
"Open Bat Cave" Evan said in a normal tone as he pulled into his driveway, and the first door of his five-door garage opened for him. This was the stall for the Porsche. The Astin-Martin was behind door number two, and a few other toys were also housed in this high-security facility. Muscles working beneath his silk trousers, Evan downshifted once again, applied brakes, and smoothly did a T-maneuver which allowed
him to back the navy blue panther of a car into its nightly resting place. "Sound system off," he dictated, and there was silence. "Ah," he thought as he grabbed his bag from the leather bucket passenger seat, "things are so much easier and more pleasant than they were a hundred years ago! Man, those cars back then! People thought they were a great invention, but you had to patch a tire every two miles, got dust in your eyes even with goggles, and getting from one town to another was a day's drive! Yes, the New Millennium certainly has its perks!" And Doctor Evan O'Neill certainly enjoyed the improvements!
As Evan walked up the path to his back door, he noticed that the bottle brush shrubs were losing their unusual blooms, but other plants were showing off their flowers in this last little gasp of great weather before winter set in. Not that things didn't bloom in winter, but it happened that a lot of Evan's favorite plants seemed to like the warmer weather. The brick pavers were uneven under his feet, and he could feel the grout lines through the thin soles of the Marcotti Italian leather. Funny how everything felt sensuous tonight—even the soft desert breeze that wafted through the thick, dark curls on his head and touched his cheeks ever so lightly seemed to put him in a mood to hold someone close—someone who could love him for who and what he was. He shook his head, and the curls danced in the wind. "Don't even go there, man," he thought out loud. "That is a life for other people, not for you!" As Evan reached the solid wood of his door, he put his thumb on the entry pad, which caused the multiple locks to let loose, allowing the heavy door to open before him. He stepped inside the dark, cool interior of his large, stucco and tile house, feeling even more relaxation seep into him just for being here in his haven. He placed his laptop bag on the top of his desk nook and
stepped out of his boots before his feet left the rug in his back entry, then sauntered across the plush rug of his media room, past the open gas fireplace in the middle of his living room, and then turned on his surround-sound speakers. He touched the button marked "Random" and waited to see what the sound robot would select for him tonight. He smiled as the beat began on the first Foo Fighters track. The tune gushed forth from lush speakers hidden everywhere, including his patio, while Evan walked to his bar cabinet, where he poured himself two cold drinks.
Picking up both glasses, he headed for his patio, through the glass doors, out into the exterior living space, complete with another gas fireplace, a wood-burning fire pit, an outdoor kitchen and a large-screen television. He sat in his favorite leather recliner, put both of the glasses on the side table, picked up the remote, muted the sound system and instead listened to the TiVo-recorded local news while he sipped. The long night ahead loomed before him. Right now, he'd chill out, but who knew? He might have to go out later to see what was going on in the cool desert night! That was one distinct advantage to having your life all to yourself—nobody ever bothered to tell you what you ought to be doing! And, since he never slept at night, the darkness beckoned to him to go wandering a bit. Sipping from the tumbler, Evan let himself sink into the big, comfy chair. It would be the most intimate caress he'd know tonight, so he may as well enjoy it. He looked at the large bubble wine glass, which held a very decent 25-year-old Cabernet Sauvignon. Since he had poured it from an opened bottle in his refrigerator, he'd wait for it to warm up just a bit before drinking it, wanting to experience the full bouquet and flavor of the rich liquid. Instead, he picked up the other glass, a tall tumbler, which had been pre-chilled so it was nice and frosty on the outside.
He tipped the glass and took a sip, then leaned back, taking in the beautiful color of his usual dinner—the life-giving, life-saving, O-positive human blood.