End of Chapter 12

§

Arizona stood to leave. Bailey added, "If you take anything from what I've told you, remember Callie's truly is a good person." Bailey shook her head, "I've shared enough of Callie's personal business with you, a complete stranger nonetheless. Don't make me regret it," Bailey threatened. "Nice to make your acquaintance, Dr. Robbins."

"Thank you for your time, Dr. Bailey," Arizona cautiously replied. Walking out of the office Arizona couldn't help but smile. The information shared by Dr. Bailey was not just insightful, it was invigorating.

§

Chapter 13

§

Running on fumes, Arizona took her what little energy she had left and went directly to her apartment after her enlightening meeting with Dr. Bailey. She was simultaneously ecstatic and depressed. She did as Dr. Bailey suggested and connected the dots. The resulting illustration depicted a woman very much her type. It gave her reason to hope. What gave her pause was the LA Gen doctor indicated Carlos and Lucia Torres did not approve of their daughter's choice of lovers. Sadly, the result was the parents of Calliope Torres wanted nothing to do with their own flesh and blood.

Arizona could not help but think of her own parents who yearned for their only daughter, now their only child, to find a woman to share her life with, to exist not in solitude, but with a soul mate to love and be loved by. It weighed heavily on Arizona knowing she shut her mother down each time the topic was broached. While she did not show it, she was grateful her parents were unfazed by her sexual orientation. What her parents did take issue with was her gad about lifestyle and her reluctance to even consider such an ideal person existed. She found that totally exasperating.

Arizona may have convinced her mind of true love's absurdity, but her now nagging heart begged to differ. The heart she tried so hard to protect and shield from hurt was splintering and nothing felt right. She crawled under her covers, embraced by cold sheets and emptiness. The chilling reality that her barren bed was merely a functional spot for her body to sleep, occasionally a location for meaningless sex and not much more was symptomatic of her life. It finally dawned on her it was not where one's body resided that constituted a home; it was where one's heart dwelled.

That night, spent on another continent, in a foreign apartment, sharing a bed with an intimate stranger, felt more like home than her own apartment did. She felt utterly complete with Calliope Torres by her side. No other woman had ever made her feel so secure and wanted, though plenty tried. There in lies the remarkable difference, Calliope never tried. It just happened. This should have been an epiphany, but the newfound knowledge instead seemed more like an apocalypse and she was the beast of burden. She worriedly questioned whether in her arrogance she misinterpreted the discovered information from her team's research, encouraging others to do the same because Dr. Torres initially came off as indifferent to Humans First's efforts. She feared so. Arizona discovered too late that Dr. Torres was neither indifferent nor presumptuous, but rather she was an overtaxed doctor, battling illness and bruising pain.

Thoughts raced through Arizona's head, pulling out a pad of paper by her bedside, she jotted down what she knew, separating fact from speculation, crossing out and rewriting in the hope that taking it from her brain to paper would allow her mind some peace and clarity.

Fact: Calliope Torres is the orthopedic surgeon who made the breakthrough discovery of synthetic cartilage.

Fact: Her parents are the affluent Carlos and Lucia Torres of Miami, Florida.

XXXX/Speculation: She has a trust fund.

Fact: She was married to a man.

XXXXXXXXXXX/ XXXX/ Speculation: She's gay, perhaps bi, whatever, she's not straight.

XXXXXXXXXXX/Fact: Dr. Torres' parents do not approve of her romances.

Speculation: Calliope Torres ran away from her life here.

XXXXXXXXXXX/Fact: Calliope Torres is XXXXXXXul stunning.

Her body, pining for sleep, finally went on strike. Confident a few consecutive hours of rest were necessary to properly process all this information, Arizona shut off the light. In the dark, she visualized Dr. Torres as plain as day. Lying in bed, the day's conversations streamed through her mind. She considered her chat with the tender-hearted Mrs. O'Malley and her meeting with the protective Dr. Bailey. Her heart swelled with joy that despite having an abrasive and uncaring mother, Calliope had people in her corner. As she dozed off, Arizona's last thoughts were of holding Calliope Torres and how good it felt to have her nestled in her arms.

Though her body slept, her mind suffered from insomnia. The night was rampant with recollections that transformed to an eerie nightmare in which she was the star. Arizona saw her lone self standing in a dark, hazy spot, quivering. The trembling she felt was no longer the ill Dr. Torres, who vanished from her arms, but her own body, quaking with fear. Dr. Torres was nowhere to be found. The absence of the brunette caused Arizona to scream out, "Calliope?" There was no reply. Panicked, she ran through the dingy, perverse maze searching out the missing woman. Every path led to a dead end. Finally, hearing sounds in the distance, she raced toward the noise. As she moved closer to the source, strangled sobs reverberated around her. Hearing the familiar voice, Arizona initially assumed it was a replay of the cries she heard earlier from the mournful Mrs. O'Malley. As she drew closer, she discovered it was her own voice making the pitiful clamor. Trying to escape her own disturbing wails, she sprinted away.

Staggering about on strange paths, new and oddly familiar voices joined the echoing around her. As she rounded a corner, Richard's gigantic head formed in the fog before her. His words admonished her, "You know we can't send the team back...You know we can't send the team back...You know we can't send the team back." Backing away from the doomed edict, she tripped over the creepy William Rivas. He joined the harmonizing as he slithered closer, "You are ssssadly misssstaken." As if the nightmare was not harrowing enough, thundering above was the faceless Lucia Torres, who chanted, "Do not call back." Arizona covered her ears to block out their words, but it proved futile. The trio's melody sang louder and louder, as their voices boomed over and over: "You know we can't send the team back...You are ssssadly misssstaken...Do not call back...You know we can't send the team back...You are ssssadly misssstaken...Do not call back." Arizona fell to the ground, crushed by the sadistic din.

Covered in sweat, Arizona bolted upright, hyperventilating. It took a few minutes for her to get her bearings. She may have begun her evening contently in the bed of her mysterious doctor, but she ended the night in horror, joined only by tears in her desolate bed, coming to terms that she was 'sadly mistaken'. It may have been only a nightmare, but it was laced with truth. This assignment turned out to be a recipe for disaster. A handful of ambiguous details, adding Arizona's zeal to right the wrongs in the world and a smidgen of avoidance on the part of the orthopedic surgeon resulted in Arizona mistakenly assuming Dr. Torres was guilty.

Unwilling to shut her eyes again, fearful of the monsters living in her head, she grabbed her iPad from the night stand, typing 'Dr. Calliope Torres' into the search bar and then methodically adding words like cartilage, Seattle Grace and Miami, Florida, Carlos and Lucia Torres, Aria Torres, George O'Malley and Mark Sloan to her search.

She confirmed the medical piece of information Dr. Bailey had given her, it was Dr. Calliope Torres who made the breakthrough on the synthetic cartilage. Any royalties generated from that discovery she learned had been funneled into a fund for research. The woman certainly was generous.

She read about the plane crash and death of the best friend, Mark Sloan. She found the obituary regarding the untimely demise of Dr. George O'Malley, who left behind his mother, two brothers, former wife and was predeceased by his father.

There was no shortage of articles professing the financial success of Carlos Torres, his socialite wife, Lucia, and heir apparent, daughter Aria. References to daughter Calliope were almost non-existent. A few dated pieces made note of her, but cyberspace seemed to have been wiped clean in terms of any current connection to her family.

Arizona now knew where the woman grew up, went to school, where she did her residency, the awards she won and her charitable deeds. There were a few photos of family and friends she downloaded as well, including one of the rather dashing Dr. Sloan. That one made the hairs on her neck tingle with what may have been a bit of misplaced jealousy. She knew her concerns were unfounded - the man was dead, but something about Mark Sloan evoked envy.

Satisfied that she had read all there was to read by 3:00am, Arizona finally fell soundly asleep, iPad in hand, confident the device connected her to the woman of her dreams and of her nightmares. As she slept, the iPad rested close to her heart, as if to ward off any evil demons.

Arizona drank her morning coffee at the small café table in her kitchen, contemplating how all her theories had been blown. Dr. Calliope Torres didn't need the money, the fame or the power. All indications, much to her pleasure, were that William Rivas was no longer her type, confidently concluding it was not romance influencing her.

There was only one theory remaining. Arizona feared Maria Rosa was correct; Dr. Torres had been unfairly implicated. She was a victim of circumstance. Making matters worse, if their current report was released, it was going to paint an even more unflattering picture of Dr. Torres. The way the information had been presented, Dr. Torres would not come out of this unscathed. Arizona feared even the woman's medical license would be in jeopardy.

Arizona's heart was heavy with misgivings. She knew guilt was the root of her evil horror show the previous night. She tenaciously managed this assignment, but now she recognized she did it with blinders on. The paperwork reflected her efforts and essentially it implied the doctor was affiliated with inappropriate dealings. In that final meeting at the Bata hospital, attendees could not help but assume Dr. Torres was taking advantage of her position and profiting from it.

By the time Arizona left Equatorial Guinea, she knew something was amiss. Her gut was not in sync with her mind. She missed something and it did not set well with her. On top of everything, she was concerned for the woman's physical wellbeing. Someone hurt Dr. Torres and the leading suspect was William Rivas. The more she learned about Rivas, the more unsavory he became.

Concern meant she cared, an unfamiliar and much avoided concept. She acknowledged she cared enough to stay and help Calliope Torres recover from the Dengue. She cared that bruises ended up on her beautiful body. She cared so much that she kept digging for more information in order to set the facts straight. She cared that the doctor's reputation was now in question. She cared. It was that simple and that obvious, even to her. Fact: her relationship with Calliope Torres extended beyond professional.

Arizona recalled delivering the baby; Calliope Torres did that kind of medicine all the time. Arizona could not deny the compassion Dr. Torres showed in her volunteer efforts, it was remarkable and contagious. Because Dr. Torres chose to be a Good Samaritan, she was about to be torpedoed. After her conversation with Dr. Bailey and learning about her hard luck past, Arizona feared there would be no recovering for the woman if her current situation was not rectified.

Arizona had shielded her heart for ages. When she buried her brother, she tried to bury her heart, too, never wanting to experience love's anguish again. Like a teenager, her heart was currently rebelling, refusing to submit to her foolish, controlling acts of denial and solitude. It had been a long time since Arizona had let someone affect her passionately. Truthfully, she didn't let Calliope Torres affect her, what the woman did was infect her. The exotic Latina surreptitiously infiltrated her being to such a point that Arizona was now consumed by her, morning, noon and night. Only one person held the antidote.

§

Recognizing she had exhausted her options locally, on Tuesday Arizona went in search of her boss, Richard Webber. "Hey Chief. Got a minute? We need to talk…..," Arizona called down the hall.

"Richard, I need to go back...to Bata," Arizona blurted as soon as the two entered his office.

Shaking his head, Richard replied, "You know there is no money for that. I let you take time to work on it here. Just revise your report to reflect any new information you came across."

Undeterred by his response, she countered, "It's not that simple."

Richard Webber was perplexed, "Arizona, you've never become this personally involved in an assignment before. Why now?"

"I made a mistake, Richard. I don't make mistakes. There's something about this situation that doesn't add up." She wasn't going to get into the fact that it was more than facts that didn't add up. Her emotions mutinied on her sensibility.

"Arizona, let's - " Webber tried to reason with his protégé.

"Then I need to take some time off, use some of that accumulated vacation time I've accrued. Time you've been hounding me forever to use," she reminded him.

Richard shook his head, "Arizona, now's not really a -"

"I know it's busy. But this is important," she replied. "Please."

"Arizona, I - " Richard hesitantly said.

"Richard," she interrupted for the third time. "I'm going to sort this out, with or without your support," she firmly stated. Seeing the Chief's reluctance, Arizona calmly added, "If you can't grant me vacation time, I'll just resign."

Resign? He knew this was nothing but an idle threat; Arizona Robbins was used to getting her way. Just the same, he was surprised by her shameless tactic. This behavior was atypical of Dr. Arizona Robbins, an anomaly.

Webber choked, "Whoa Tiger, slow down there. No need for drastic measures. Is it strictly because of the Torres thing or is it something else? "

"It's Torres. I can't sit back and do nothing. This is my fault. The new information changes everything. She risks censure and possible the loss of her medical license. She's innocent, in my heart I think I've always known that," Arizona lamented.

"Arizona, this is hardly your fault. The facts point to her guilt. Perhaps her naïveté resulted in her being mixed up in this; but all the same, she is in the thick of it. Your involvement did not cause any of this," Richard reminded her.

Arizona vehemently shook her head, "You're wrong." Arizona firmly explained, "Richard, she doesn't need the money, or the fame or the power. She had that here and walked away from it. She's the real deal. And she's not Robin Hood, stealing from the rich to give to the poor. I couldn't figure out the money thing. How was she paying for all those items? The facts conveniently pointed to her taking kickbacks, then using the money to help the clinic. But after a conversation with her former colleague, I'd bet the farm she is using her own funds to pay for the items. She has a trust fund. She must do a transfer from it. But without Dr. Torres' help, I can't prove it from here. She's estranged from her family, so they're of no help. I need to personally speak with Dr. Torres, and confirm the money trail. At the very least, I need to prove she is not profiting from this horrific situation. Hopefully, I can show even more...And Richard, don't suggest calling her, this is not a problem resolved by a phone call."

Richard nodded his head in acknowledgement of her assessment. He sincerely rationalized his position, "Arizona, just explain all this in your report and she'll be fine. This isn't a witch hunt. She'll be given the benefit of the doubt. She'll come out of this just fine. We just don't have the financial resources to pursue this any longer. Arizona, I'm sorry. Our work is done on this one; we have bigger issues to address. The problem in that country is far bigger than Dr. Torres. She unfortunately got caught in the middle of a rotten situation. She's another victim of corruption. We didn't create her problems. We just did our job and reported the facts."

Arizona's pleas evolved to desperate. "Richard, you don't understand. I essentially threw her under the bus in that close-out meeting. The people were left thinking she was guilty. My presentation made damn sure of it. I didn't say it outright, but it was hard to infer anything but her involvement based on how I explained it. Has this job has made me nothing more than a spin doctor that manipulates the numbers to benefit us? Come on Richard, we all know how to lie with statistics, that's basically what I did. Bata officials promised all along there would be repercussions."

Richard shook his head, discounting the urgency of the situation, "Arizona, that's the party line, we've heard that for years."

Refusing to allow her concerns to be overlooked, she firmly responded, "Maybe so, but that's not a risk I'm willing to take. If all we are doing is going for the win, then we've become as unethical as the people we look into. We are supposed to be the voice for those who have none! I can't live with myself if I don't fix this and I'm damn sure not working for you if this is how you operate."

Struck by his employee's oddly subjective attachment to this case, Richard suspiciously asked, "How well do you even know this woman?"

Arizona forlornly laughed, "Not very well. Actually, I would bet she does not even like me. We've only exchanged a few words. My interactions with her have been less than pleasant. I was fairly abrasive last time we spoke." Yet, another white lie cropped up. She thought about the last the time they were together, Arizona wasn't abrasive at all. Of course, Calliope Torres was not even conscious.

Richard worried his employee had become personally involved with the person in question. After hearing Arizona's explanation, he decided there may be some objectivity in his team leader's quest. If the two hadn't even had a proper conversation, then he would allow her the benefit of the doubt, and justify the concerns had a professional and legitimate basis. He conceded her anal attention to getting each and every detail accurate was partly the issue. Unless he let her resolve the discrepancy, based on what he witnessed the previous day, he risked having her efforts on future assignments be sub-par, assuming she didn't make good on her threat and quit.

The Chief shook his head, reluctant to give in to her request but failed to see any other option. He certainly was not funding the questionable expedition. "A week of vacation and the expenses are on you, your dime and your time. Would that work?"

Arizona beamed, "Thank you Richard," and she left his office.

Her dime and her time, it seemed like a win-win for him. She backed him into a corner and if she wanted to vacation in Equatorial Guinea, that was her choice. Just the same, his paternal instincts urged him on. He called after her, "Be careful out there! You make sure you leave me your itinerary, check with our in-country contact. Adhere to the safety protocol."

She waved her hand high in acknowledgement as she walked quickly back to her office.

She worked with her team the next day to revise what they could in the reports, noting the effort was still in process. She was able to catch a flight Thursday morning out of LAX. It would take thirty hours of travel without delays and she would still need to get to Bata from Malabo.

Just over five days ago she left the place, now she was going to spend another two days traveling back. Her flight to Bata was miserable. Her body had not even recovered from her previous jet lag. The stress of the situation caused a headache before she even boarded, so the altitude only worsened it. The turbulence made her nearly vomit and anxiety prevented her from sleeping. She was a mess before she even started.

Arizona was relieved when she was able to set both feet on the ground and retrieve her luggage from the baggage carousel. Quickly, she located a taxi to bring her to the hotel. All this leading up to her arrival made for a less than auspicious start. She preferred to think of it as getting all the bad luck out of the way first.

§

Arizona woke Saturday morning still trying to manage her accumulated jet lag. Webber gave her a few days to sort this out in Bata and she promised the Chief she would stick close to the hospital. 'Close' was rather an obscure term in her mind. Her definition probably was a tad bit different than Webber's. But she was on 'her time and her dime' as he put it, so she felt entirely justified in defining 'close' as it best suited her needs.

The only person who knew of her arrival was some nebulous in-country contact. She had asked the man to keep her arrival confidential. She wanted to meet with Dr. Torres spontaneously. Buoyed by information shared from Dr. Bailey, her heart had all but convinced her head of the doctor's innocence. Just the same, Arizona wanted to their meeting to be impromptu, so Dr. Torres' reaction would be uncontrived.

Arizona sat down in the hotel dining room to eat, not that she was all that hungry, but she understood she better eat something for breakfast. At least the hotel had a reputation for sanitary kitchen facilities; she didn't want to risk traveler's diarrhea at this point. She had no time for that.

She formulated a plan in her head while she ate. Her first stop would be to the apartment of Dr. Torres, though, she would be surprised if the orthopedic surgeon was at home. It still made sense to start there. During their conversation, Maria Rosa had said on Saturdays it was Dr. Torres' habit to spend the day at the clinic.

Once she finished breakfast, she made her way outside. The humidity greeted her with a warm, wet, welcoming hug as she walked through the lobby door. A dozen taxi drivers loitered around the edge of the property, eagerly waiting for a quick fare from a traveler. Arizona made sure she brought enough cash, remembering her last visit and how far outside the city she might have to travel. The hotel provided her the address of the church and she knew the clinic was adjacent to it.

The first two taxis refused to take her to the second location she requested. It was too far out of the city. The drivers assumed there would be no one waiting for the return trip and therefore the trip was not financially advantageous. The third taxi was driven by a young man, who eagerly agreed to drive her in his shabby vehicle.

The driver spoke very little English. Arizona concluded that getting back to the hotel could be tricky, assuming she would end up on the outskirts of town. After thinking it through, she asked the English-speaking hotel doorman to make arrangements to have the taxi driver wait for her. She essentially hired the taxi for the day, paying a ridiculously small amount for his services, even with a generous tip. The humble man was ecstatic to pick up the fare. Times were tough; today's earnings would feed his family for a while.

The first stop was Dr. Torres' apartment building; fortunately Arizona vaguely remembered where it was located. Unsurprisingly, no one answered her knocks to the door 3e.

Once they arrived at their next destination, Arizona reminded the cab driver to wait for her by making a stop sign with her hand. The man nodded and spoke one word, "Careful." She looked at him confused. He pointed to her and said again, "Careful."

She understood. Arizona walked toward the church and her eyes were drawn to the charred building beside it. "What happened?" she thought?

She was so distracted by the sight, Arizona failed to notice a woman standing beside her, "Sad, huh?"

Arizona jumped when she heard the voice, "What happened?"

The woman, a nun, shrugged her shoulders, "That pile of rubble was our clinic. Officially, bad wiring. Unofficially, it's anyone's guess. I'm Sister Tia, by the way. How can I help you?" the nun inquired.

Arizona's stomach knotted. This was the clinic Dr. Torres was helping. "Do you know where I can find Dr. Torres?" Arizona asked.

"Is she expecting you?" the sister replied cautiously.

Arizona shook her head, "No, she doesn't know I am here."

"And you are?" Sister Tia asked warily.

"I'm Dr. Arizona Robbins, with Hu... A friend from the States."

Sister Tia gave the doctor a guarded look. Arizona looked like a fish out of water. She asked suspiciously, "What kind of doctor?"

"I'm also a surgeon, pediatrics." Arizona confidently replied, hoping the nun would assume they were at least professional acquaintances, which was vaguely true.

Satisfied with Arizona's response, the nun offered, "Look, I'm not sure where she is. I haven't seen her yet. She's probably running late. Usually, she does come on Saturdays, especially when the traveling medical team is here, but not always. I'll let her know you were asking for her."

"No, I need to see her. I'll wait," Arizona adamantly stated.

"Well, suit yourself," the nun said as she started to walk away, but turned around adding, "If you are hanging around, you could make yourself useful."

She was not sure what 'make yourself useful' meant. Not only that, 'How do you say 'no' to a nun?' Arizona debated a moment. "Fine," she hesitantly responded.

They two walked around the back of the church. The crowd noticed Arizona Robbins and there was a lull in the conversation as the bystanders stared at the blonde curiosity. She was an outsider. It was easy to read their body language; they were not sure what to make of her.

The doctor gaped at the crowd spilling over into the street from the temporary space being a called a clinic. "You could help us while you wait. We could use another set of knowledgeable hands," Sister Tia said hopefully.

"What exactly do you treat?" Arizona inquired.

"Anything, everything. We handle everything from vaccinations to HIV. We check heart, lungs, keep stats, treat malaria, tb and typhus. Whatever we can do with the limited supplies we have," the sister clarified. "Rob can set you up. He's the doc from the traveling clinic." Sister Tia called over, "Rob, this Dr. Robbins, she's a friend of Cal's. She says she is a pediatrician."

"Uh, actually, I'm a pediatric surgeon. It's a bit different," Arizona clarified.

Rob grinned as he walked over to the women and shook Arizona's hand. "Hey, nice to meet you, Dr. Robbins. I'm Rob Smythe. We could really use the extra help today, we're short-staffed. Hopefully Cal will be here soon. We definitely could use you, thanks."

"Hi Rob, please call me Arizona. Where do you want me?" He set her up in a crude space with a box of supplies.

Arizona sighed. She hadn't practiced medicine in a long time, other than delivering the baby. She was trained as a pediatric surgeon, not a pediatrician or internist. She hoped all her early medical training stored somewhere in her knowledge bank would readily resurface. She rolled up her sleeves, pulled her hair back into a ponytail and grabbed a pair of disposable gloves.

She worked all day, not sure how long her legs would hold out. Sister Tia had kept her hydrated with bottled water, but the heat was daunting. Before she realized it, Sister Tia had closed down the clinic for the day. Arizona smiled, giving herself an imaginary pat on the back. "Just like riding a bike," she reassuredly commented.

"We have no electricity here, so we close when the light fades. Thank you, you made a real difference today. So rarely do we get a doctor with your level of pediatric experience to help. Pediatrician or not, you really know your stuff. Honestly, I was skeptical when I first met you," the nun said appreciatively.

"Dr. Torres never came. Did you hear from her?" Arizona worriedly questioned.

"I'm sorry, no word," the nun answered.

Rob yelled over, "Arizona, do you want to join us for dinner? We are just going to grab a quick bite in town seeing as Cal's not here to cook for us."

She turned to see him walking toward her. "How about if your group joins me at the hotel restaurant, my treat. I'm wiped out. Between the travel and the heat, once I sit down, I don't think I will get much farther than the elevator to my room."

"Sure. Sounds great, thank you," Rob replied.

Dinner turned out to be quite fun and informative. Rob was joined by his two colleagues, Tom and Carter. The conversation expectedly turned to Dr. Torres, Carter asking Arizona how she knew Cal. After spewing some professional mumbo jumbo, Arizona was quick to divert the topic to how they met the orthopedic surgeon. Arizona was regaled with tales of evenings at the Torres apartment, where Cal cooked delicious meals for them and the group often capping the night off with drinking and storytelling.

"We've spent more than a few nights camped out in Cal's apartment. Too bad Emmy wasn't here; she and Torres had all sorts of adventures. Those two and their shopping," Tom happily shared.

"Who's Emmy?" Arizona quickly asked, remembering a similar name from that night with the hysterical doctor.

"Emmy is one of our nurses from France, or I should say was one of our nurses," Rob explained. "She was called home unexpectedly, a family emergency or something. Anyhow, those two loved to explore. I think they knew every vendor at the souk. And talk, they would spend the night yakking. Getting them out of bed in the morning was quite a chore." The group laughed at the fond memory.

Arizona wanted to ask more, but refrained. Was Rob using a figure of speech when he said, "Getting them out of bed" or was he being literal? There was only one bed in the Torres apartment. The current conversation made Arizona glum. Dr. Torres was definitely her type. She was now uncertain if she was Dr. Torres' type or did Dr. Torres favor more European flair.

"Well, this has been fun, but I'm exhausted. I need to call it a night. Please stay, have dessert and more drinks. I'll make sure the waiter puts it on my tab," Arizona offered.

"Thanks Arizona!" Rob responded. "Will we see you tomorrow?"

"I hope not," she answered. "Nothing personal, but I really need to track down Dr. Torres. Good night." She left the jovial threesome in the restaurant.

As the elevator climb higher, Arizona decided that tomorrow she would stop by the hospital first; maybe Dr. Torres was on-call this weekend. Otherwise, she probably would be back at the clinic, and she could only hope Calliope Torres would appear.

After returning to her hotel room, Arizona showered and then ordered some tea. Having left the camaraderie of her enjoyable new acquaintances, she suddenly felt very alone. She turned on the TV to quell the disturbing isolation of her hotel room. As she flipped through the channels, she caught the end of the Bata soccer match.

Immediately, her thoughts went to 'Calliope'. In her head, they were on a first name basis, best of friends actually. Arizona had absent-mindedly forgotten in real life the two barely had spoken. In Arizona's mind, their interactions included more than conversation. She perused the sidelines of the televised soccer match, only to find the orthopedic surgeon absent.

Arizona was now even more concerned. Maria said she always was at the games. Maybe a player had been injured earlier and she was called away to tend to him, Arizona wishfully thought.

§

Sunday morning, after checking at the hospital and finding no Dr. Torres on call, then her apartment which yielded the same results, Arizona returned to the village. She could find no one at the hospital who could tell her anything or at least willing to tell her something. At least if she helped at the clinic, there was a possibility the orthopedic surgeon would show. Sister Tia's face lit up when the American doctor stepped out of the taxi.

"You couldn't stay away, huh? We have that effect on people," Sister Tia gleefully said.

"Welcome back," Rob yelled over.

The queue Sunday for the clinic was at least as long as the one the day before. It surprised Arizona how many children had never even seen a doctor before. Arizona, now familiar with the protocol, worked swiftly and efficiently. The community soon warmed up to the pediatric surgeon. Her cold and business-like persona gave way to perky and gentle as innocent smiles and heartfelt hugs enveloped her.

Arizona was even more tired at the close of business on Sunday. Two straight days on her feet, in hot, tropical conditions was fatiguing. It was a good, rewarding tired. She was surprisingly happy, realizing she missed treating patients. Though, it was a relief when she exited the taxi at her hotel. Too exhausted to eat, she showered and went straight to bed.

Monday morning, after a sound sleep, Arizona went directly to the hospital. She was not leaving until she had spoken with Dr. Torres. She made her way to the ortho surgeon's office and spied Maria Rosa working at her desk, located just outside the closed office door of Dr. Cal Torres.

Maria was taken back to the see the blonde American doctor standing before her. She never anticipated laying eyes on the Humans First team leader again once the woman flew out of the country the prior week. "Dr. Robbins? What-"

"Good morning, Mrs. Rosa. I am here to see Dr. Torres. It's extremely important. I'll wait if she is in surgery, though I had hoped to catch her before she went in," Arizona urgently requested.

Maria shook her head in despair, "Dr. Torres is not here."

"Will she be here soon? I need to see her, that's why I've returned," Arizona explained.

"I'm sorry Dr. Robbins, it's ...she's not available today," Maria coldly insisted.

"Is she alright? Did she recover?" Arizona panicked.

Maria's eyes dropped to the floor.

Worried by the absence of the orthopedic surgeon, Arizona switched her approach from genial to firm, "The Dengue. She didn't recover, what happened?"

Maria's tone changed to anger. Her eyes shot up to Arizona and glared at her, "Why are you here? Have you come back to finish the job? You created this situation, this is your fault."

"I don't understand? Where is Dr. Torres? " Arizona sincerely answered, surprised at being rebuked.

The normally collected Maria was irate, "What did you think was going to happen? You do your research, you raise all these suspicions. Make allegations. Then, you leave. Didn't you know who you were dealing with? Rivas doesn't like to lose, Dr. Robbins. He'll make sure he won't, even at the expense of others."

Sensing despair in the older woman's tone, Arizona nervously asked again, "Where is Dr. Torres?"

Maria defeatedly shrugged, "She's been detained."

Unclear as to what Maria was saying, the doctor asked, "What's that mean?"

Upset, tears welling in her eyes, Maria clarified, "She's in police custody."