11
It Had to be You
A/N: Surprise! Thought I'd be good and post another chapter sooner than later. Thanks for the reviews—I enjoy them all!
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Chapter 21
"Why don't they come out and tell us something?" demanded a concerned Richie as he paced the floor nervously.
"They'll come out when they have something to say," Mark said trying to calm the man down. "We've haven't been here that long." Previous experiences in the emergency room made ER protocol all too familiar to him.
"What's he saying?" asked Sue. Richie's pacing made it difficult to follow his comments.
"I'm saying I'm upset!" shouted Richie as he whirled around. "And worried. What the hell is going on? Why don't they tell us anything?"
At Sue's taken aback expression, he immediately became contrite. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be yelling at you. It's not your fault."
"It's okay," Sue replied accepting his apology. "I feel the same way."
Light footsteps approached the anxious group in the waiting area interrupting the tense conversation.
"Marcy," said Mark facing the petite woman in a doctor's coat, "tell me the news is better than the expression I see on your face."
"I'm sorry, Mark," Dr. Walker said sympathetically. Her gaze included Sue and Richie. "We couldn't save your friend. He died a few minutes ago."
"Oh, no!" Sue exclaimed. Her grip on Mark's arm tightened at the news. His hand covered hers in comfort.
"He's dead?" Richie asked in disbelief. "You're telling me Eric's dead?"
"I'm sorry," she repeated.
"What kind of doctor are you?" demanded an outraged Richie. "It's a diabetic coma! Don't you know how to treat a diabetic coma?"
"Take it easy, Richie," said Mark as he stepped between the homeless man and the physician. "I'm sure Dr. Walker did everything she could."
"We did…but there were…complications."
"Complications?" Mark echoed sharply. "What kind of complications, Marcy?"
"The kind that are going to involve the police."
"The police!" exclaimed Richie in disbelief.
"I don't understand," Sue remarked. "Why would the police even be interested in something like this?"
She and Richie looked confused while Mark looked grim.
"He died under suspicious circumstances," the doctor explained.
"Suspicious circumstances?" Richie parroted. "Since when is a diabetic coma suspicious?"
"There was a needle mark on your friend's arm."
"What? That can't be!" Richie protested heatedly. "He isn't a druggie!"
"I'm not saying he was," Dr. Walker said calmly. "But unless he was a drug addict or taking insulin for diabetes, there shouldn't be any needle marks on his body."
Richie was staggered at the idea.
"You think…someone killed Eric on purpose?"
Dr. Walker shrugged. "That's for the authorities to determine."
"I'm finding this all a little difficult to believe," Sue stated still bewildered at the turn of events. "Who would want to hurt Eric? He is…was such a nice person."
"He must have been to have such good friends," the doctor said sympathetically. "Would you like to have some time with your friend to say your good-byes?"
"I'd like to say a prayer for him," Mark answered.
"That's what I thought," she said kindly. "Take all the time you need."
"Thanks, Marcy," said Mark.
"I just wish I could've been of more help."
"You did your best."
"Sometimes it's not enough."
"No, it isn't but that's when the Man I work for takes over," said Mark gently.
"True. If you need anything, let me know." With a nod to the rest, she left.
Sue placed a hand on Richie's arm. "I'm so sorry, Richie."
"I…I should've looked harder. I should've asked for help earlier. Maybe he'd still be alive."
"You did everything you could," she told him earnestly. "You're not responsible for Eric's actions."
"But I'm his friend," he insisted agitatedly. "I could've done more."
Sue turned pleading eyes towards Mark. Help him, she mouthed.
Nodding, Mark put his hand on the grieving man's shoulder. "Richie, you were a good friend to Eric. You took him under your wing when he came to the shelter. You did everything you could. We don't know if he would have survived this coma but it's not your fault he died. Someone else is responsible for his death, not you."
"I'm gonna miss him," he said brokenly.
"So will we."
"Father Dancy?" a voice interrupted.
Mark turned towards to speaker. "Yes, Jillian?"
"You can see your friend now. He's in room nine."
"Thank you." He looked at Richie. "If it's too difficult, you don't have to come. Eric would understand."
"I want to say good-bye."
The trio entered the room where their friend lay. A nurse was removing the last of the medical equipment away from the bed.
"I'll leave you alone," she said quietly and left.
Mark and Sue approached Eric from one side of the bed while Richie moved to the other. They gazed at the face of their friend while Mark made the sign of the cross.
"I know you weren't particularly religious, Eric," began Mark, "but I do know which psalm was your favorite. Shall we say it together?"
As Mark recited, Sue signed, "The Lord is my Shepherd…"
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"I wonder how much the witness actually saw," wondered Bobby as Jack pulled into the emergency parking lot of the hospital.
"Anything would be helpful since we know absolutely nothing about his physical description," Jack responded. "With her help, maybe we could definitively say a male is the killer."
"Is there any doubt?" Bobby asked skeptically. "Particularly after Theresa's profile on him."
"I'm ninety-nine and nine-tenths sure our killer is a male but there is that one-tenth that's not sure.
"Hi," said Jack holding up his badge when they approached the check-in desk. "FBI. A patient was brought in by ambulance about an hour ago…a man named Eric Shelton. Do you know whose case he is?"
"You have to ask at the nurses' station," said the young clerk. "I'll buzz you in."
"Not so busy tonight," commented Bobby as they walked through the quiet corridor.
"The staff must be happy," Jack replied knowing how crazy ER could get sometimes. "Hi," said Jack again holding up his identification badge. "FBI. A man was brought in about an hour ago. We'd like to talk to the doctor in charge of his case."
"Name of the patient?" asked the nurse reaching for a clipboard.
"Eric Shelton."
At the mention of the name, a petite brunette looked up from the chart she was scribbling on.
"Eric Shelton?" she repeated.
"Yeah."
She walked over to them. "Mr. Shelton died about fifteen minutes ago."
Jack and Bobby exchanged dismayed glances.
"You are…?" asked Jack.
"Dr. Walker," she responded. "He was my case. Are you really FBI agents?"
"That's what the badge says," smirked Jack. "Special Agents Jack Hudson and Bobby Manning."
"You certainly didn't waste any time getting here. I just notified the police a few minutes ago," she said in surprise.
"A case of inter-agency cooperation."
"Is there somewhere we can talk?" asked Bobby. "We'd like to ask you a few questions."
She glanced around and spotted an empty cubicle. "We can go in room one," she nodded in the direction of the room.
"Sorry," she apologized when they reached there. "There's only one chair."
"We'll stand."
"Okay, what do you want to know?"
"How did Eric Shelton die?" asked Bobby.
"If it weren't for the alert issued by the police I would've said Mr. Shelton died from complications of a diabetic coma. However, because of the bulletin, we checked for puncture marks and found one on his left arm. The symptoms he developed while in treatment for the coma were consistent with digitalis poisoning. Unfortunately, even with that heads up we couldn't save him."
"Why?"
"The coma and poisoning placed too much stress on his system. It couldn't handle both. His body just gave out. We couldn't save him," she said regretfully.
"We'll need copies of your report and any lab work you had done," Bobby informed her.
She nodded familiar with police procedure. "I'll have them faxed over to your office if you give me the number."
Jack took out a card. "Here."
"Is there anything else?" she asked.
"Did anyone come in with Eric Shelton?" asked Bobby.
"Two men and a woman," she replied promptly. "One of them is Father Mark Dancy. He's the head of the homeless shelter a few blocks away. Mr. Shelton was one of his regulars."
"Can we see the deceased?"
"His friends are with him now."
"We'll wait."
"He's in room nine." Her eyes darted from Jack to Bobby. "Is he another victim of the serial killer?"
"Unless the medical examiner finds any indication to the contrary, I'm afraid so," Bobby stated.
Dr. Walker shook her head in dismay. "I'll be here until seven tomorrow morning if you need to reach me. If that's all…"
"We're done…for now," agreed Jack as he closed his notepad. "We may have some questions later. Thanks."
"That's victim number five," Bobby said grimly as they waited to view the body.
"First thing tomorrow morning, I mean when we get to work today," Jack corrected himself since it was now after midnight, "let's take a look at the police report and interview the witness. Maybe she can tell us something that would help in catching this guy." He held up a finger as he thought of something. "We also better get a team down there to scour the area for any clues. I hope the police roped off the area. Let me call Diana to make sure and to let her know it's now a murder investigation."
Bobby leaned against the wall tenderly massaging his aching arm. Going home and taking a shower were foremost on his mind…well, so were thoughts of Sue. Ever since she'd entered his life, a corner of his mind always thought of her. In fact, perhaps he was so tired he was seeing her.
He blinked to clear his vision as he stared at a couple leaving a room. The guy looked an awful lot like the priest at the shelter. Wait a minute, thought Bobby as he straightened up. It was Sue! What was she doing here with Mark? He moved several steps closer to stand in their path.
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"If you don't mind, I'd like to have a few minutes alone with Eric," stated a grieving Richie. "He was like a brother to me."
"We understand," said Mark. "Take your time."
Sue put her hand on Richie's shoulder and squeezed. As she turned to leave with Mark, she had to blink the moisture in her eyes away. She felt a comforting hand on her arm.
"Your signing was very moving," Mark commented kindly. "I'm sure Eric would have appreciated it."
She bit her lip and nodded. Any attempt at speech would only start the flood of tears threatening to escape. She took a deep breath to regain control and attempted a smile.
"Let's get some air," he suggested taking a hold of her arm.
At her nod, Mark led the way. They'd taken a few steps when a tall figure materialized in front of them.
"Bobby?" she exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"
"I might ask you the same thing," he answered noting the traces of dampness on her lashes. "Tears, Sue?"
He couldn't resist. He gently wiped away one that had escaped.
The tenderness of his gesture opened the floodgates. She buried her face in his chest. Automatically his arms went around her.
"What happened?" he asked in concern as he held Sue.
"A friend just died," explained Mark. "The doctor thinks he may have been murdered." His eyes narrowed. "Is that why you're here?"
Bobby's expression became alert. His eyes flicked towards the room the pair had just left—it was room nine.
"Was his name Eric Shelton?"
"Yeah."
"And was Sue the one that found him?"
"That's right."
Bobby's heart beat a little faster as he realized the new wrinkle this put in the case. His thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of his teammate.
"Was it something you said?" Jack asked as he approached the men. The gravity of his face belied the flippancy of his words. "Father," he nodded acknowledging the man's presence.
"They're friends of the victim," Bobby responded. "Sue found him."
"Oh."
Jack understood the meaning behind the simple statement—she was now their only witness in the serial killer case. He glanced around looking for a more private spot.
"How 'bout we move this conversation outside?" he suggested.
"Good idea," agreed Bobby.
"We'll meet you," said Jack jerking his thumb towards the exit.
The tears seemed to have abated. Bobby put his hands on Sue's shoulders and gently pushed her away. He tilted her chin up.
"Sue?" he asked in an effort to gain her attention. He could see her blinking away the tears.
"I seem to be…making this…a habit," she sniffed with a watery smile.
"As long as it's my shoulder you cry on," he smiled as he handed her his handkerchief. Gratefully, she wiped her tears and blew her nose.
"You know…I read in a magazine that men don't carry handkerchiefs any more."
"Obviously, they didn't speak to my mum. She made sure my brother and I always had one. She said you'd never know when you'd need it…and she was right." He looked carefully at her. "Better?"
She nodded. "A little damp but better."
"Then we need to talk. Mark and Jack are outside."
"All right," she replied as her hand sought his. She needed the comfort of his touch.
They joined the two men in the corridor their expressions very serious.
"I'm sorry about your friend," Jack said sympathetically. "Father Dancy was explaining what happened."
"Thank you," she replied. "You must be Jack."
"And you must be Sue. It's nice to finally meet you."
"I just wish it was under better circumstances," she said. "Sorry about that back there. I don't normally cry like that—except when Bobby's around." She smiled as her eyes met his remembering their very first encounter.
"He has that effect on some people," Jack said lightly. "Are you all right? Enough to answer some questions?'
She nodded. "Yes, I am." She drew in a deep breath. "What do you want to know?"
Bobby began the questioning as Jack took notes and occasionally asked for clarification. As he listened, Mark began to understand the concern of the two agents.
"So I don't know if you could call me a witness," replied Sue as the inquiry ended. "I really didn't see much."
"It doesn't matter how much you did or didn't see," Jack replied. "The killer knows there's a witness. The question is…how much did he see of you?"
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