Doctor Gilford conducted a quick examination then told Carter she'd be fine, that she had some cuts along with some painful looking contusions, but overall nothing life threatening.
No kidding, Carter thought.
Gilford added that once she got cleaned up and had a little food and rest she'd be right as rain. After taking care of Carter's injuries, the doctor escorted her to a private hospital room. Doctor Gilford pointed out the small bathroom off to the side and, with a wrinkled nose and a mischievous expression, told Carter to take a shower.
Carter was only too willing to comply with that medical order. The hospital's pristine surroundings served to emphasize that she was filthy and stank to high heaven. She cranked up the hot water and let the spray beat against her sore and tired body.
A sharp knock jolted her back to alertness. Doctor Gilford stuck her head through the door and announced, "It's only me, don't worry. I'm just leaving a change of clothes for you on the toilet." Then the doctor shut the door, leaving Carter alone in the bathroom.
Carter allowed herself ten minutes in the shower, luxuriating in the hot water, the steam, the soap. Especially the soap. Eventually, though, her concern about the precariousness of her situation overrode her newfound feeling of physical well-being. She shut off the water, got out, and dried herself briskly.
Gilford had supplied her with some hospital scrubs, and Carter pulled them on with intense gratitude. She had almost forgotten what clean clothes felt like.
Feeling human for the first time since she'd been kidnapped from "Joe's," Carter slipped out of the bathroom. "Hi again," she said to the waiting doctor.
Gilford smiled at her and patted the foot of the bed. The covers were already pulled down, exposing the crisp, white sheets. "Okay, that was the 'clean up' part of my prescription. Now for the 'fed' and 'rest' parts." Carter noticed a tray on the bed that held a tuna sandwich and a glass of orange juice. Her stomach, too long neglected, rumbled at the sight of the food. She snatched up the sandwich and took a huge bite.
"I figured you were hungry," the doctor said, watching her with amused sympathy.
Carter mumbled something incoherent between mouthfuls. The sandwich and juice were disposed of in short order. When Carter finished eating, Gilford said, "Now, to bed with you."
Oh, that bed looked so tempting. All Carter wanted to do was sleep for a week, especially now that she had a full stomach. Still, her sense of responsibility, not to mention her paranoia, told her she should refuse. She asked pointedly, "How's Zach?"
"Your husband's in surgery, even as we speak. Doctor Moore is still putting his ankle back together. It shouldn't take too much longer. You'll be able to see him when you wake up." Gilford again patted the bed. "Now, be a good patient and take your nap."
"But the police... They still want to talk to me."
"They'll keep."
"What about—"
"Mrs. Abernathy," Gilford said firmly, "I understand that you're still very upset and..." She paused, then continued delicately, "...a little nervous, but I assure you, we won't let anything happen to you or your husband. The police have already posted a guard right outside this room. You'll be perfectly safe."
You don't know these people, Carter thought, but naturally she couldn't say anything to the doctor about the NID. Instead, she reminded herself of Hammond's reassurances that he would set some people to watch the hospital. She considered the woman standing before her, realizing that there was no graceful way to refuse. It was clear she wouldn't be allowed to roam the hospital looking for potential kidnappers. Her options were limited, so she said, "Thank you," and crawled into bed.
Gilford nodded approvingly and proffered a small paper cup containing two pills. "To help you relax a little," she explained when Carter gave her a suspicious look.
"I don't want any drugs."
"But—"
"I said no." Carter widened her eyes and put on a scared, helpless fawn act. "I'm afraid if I sleep— If they come back and I can't wake up in time—"
"Shhhh," Gilford soothed her, looking completely taken in. "I understand. It's okay, you don't have to take the pills. They'll be here if you decide you want them, though." She set the cup next to a glass of water on the bed stand. "Just promise me you'll try to rest."
"I will. I promise."
"Good. Now lie back." As Carter settled against the pillows, Gilford actually tucked her in, pulling the covers up to her shoulders. "Remember, there's a policeman right outside. And if you need anything, anything at all, just push the call button." She indicated the device with a wave of her hand. "Now get some sleep, and everything will seem better when you wake up. You'll see."
Carter nodded. Apparently satisfied, Gilford dimmed the lights and quietly left the room, closing the door behind her.
In all honesty, Carter didn't object to the notion of sleep, but felt she couldn't, or shouldn't, afford herself the luxury just yet. She again reminded herself that Hammond had promised that she and Makepeace would be safe, and had to admit that there wasn't much she could do at the moment except wait for the general to arrive. She just had to play the role of traumatized patient for a little while longer, that was all.
As she closed her eyes, Carter reflected with amusement that she was becoming quite an actress. If she ever needed to change careers, there was always Hollywood. On that thought, and without realizing what was happening, she dropped off to sleep.