Chapter 2
Weaver sighed a sigh of relief and stripped off her gloves, throwing them down on the floor. "Okay, she's stable. Someone needs to take her up."
"I will," Carter said, never taking his eyes off Abby.
Her breathing was labored. Her skull was cracked. But she was alive, and that was all that mattered. He got behind the gurney and wheeled it towards the elevator.
It had been a rough night. As soon as he came out of the lounge and saw Malik's face, he knew something was horribly wrong. But nothing could have prepared him for the sight of Abby, laying on the gurney, bruised and bleeding. The cops said she had been mugged. He had just stood at the end of the gurney until Weaver yelled at him to get moving. It seemed too horrible. How could someone do this to Abby?
For a while there, they had thought they might lose her. She wasn't responding well, wasn't waking up, still losing a lot of blood. Every ER staff member that was on duty waited outside the doors of the Trauma Room to see if their co-worker would survive.
Finally, after what seemed like hours of work, she stabilized, and the entire ER breathed a sigh of relief. She was going to be okay. But she wasn't completely in the clear yet; there still might be brain damage, but they wouldn't know until she woke up.
Several of his co-workers smiled and patted him on the back as he walked by. They all knew how close he and Abby were. Seeing her on that gurney lying in her own blood had been like a knife through his heart. He prayed that he would never have to witness anything like that again.
Luka. Someone still had to call him. They had tried his cell, but he wasn't answering. Carter thought that was strange; he knew Abby had been with Luka. He had talked to her on the phone less than an hour before the attack, and Luka was there. But for some reason, Luka wasn't answering at home or on his cell or pager. Carter hoped he wasn't hurt as well. They weren't exactly best friends, but he still wouldn't wish anything bad for Luka.
As he wheeled Abby's gurney out of the elevator, he wondered if Luka could shed any light on what happened to Abby.
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Normally, Maria didn't want to have anything to do with the police, but her conscience had been bothering her ever since what she saw last night. She couldn't just ignore it, it wouldn't be right. But she didn't want to get involved; maybe she could just call in anonymously.
Yes, she would do it. No one would ever know it was her; she could call from a pay phone. Maybe that would help that young woman's attacker come to justice.
Once her mind was had up, she walked to the pay phone and did it. There was no point in giving herself time to change her mind.
"I have information about a woman who was attacked last night on 75th street," she said, trying to muffle her voice so no one would recognize it.
Detective Gilbert typed the information into the computer. "Abby Lockhart. Yes, what to you know?"
Maria's heart pounded. She just wanted to get this over with. "I saw her. She was fighting with a man, a tall man with dark skin. I had my window open, so I heard them."
Gilbert was scribbling furiously on his notebook. "What did you hear?" he asked.
"They were yelling at each other. The man was yelling at her. He grabbed her and yelled at her." At least that was the way Maria remembered it. She had seen too many women abused by men; she couldn't afford to not tell the police this. Maybe they could help the woman somehow.
"What do you mean by grabbed her?"
She was a little fuzzy on this part. He did grab her, didn't he? Maybe he had grabbed her by the arms. "He grabbed her by the arms, and shook her and yelled at her." Yes, she remembered clearly now; that was what had happened.
"Do you remember anything else, ma'am? What was the man wearing?"
Maria thought hard. "I can't remember," she admitted. "But he had an accent, a strange kind of accent. I remember that."
"Do you know what kind?"
"No," she was forced to admit.
"It there anything else you can tell me about the man, or about what happened?"
Maria racked her brain, but couldn't come up with anything else. "No. That is all I know."
"Well, I appreciate your help. Could I get your name, ma'am?" Gilbert asked politely.
"I'm sorry, I have to go," she said, quickly hanging up the phone. A bewildered Gilbert was left listening to a dial tone.
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"Hello?"
"Luka, it's Carter."
Luka groaned inwardly. Why had he answered the phone? He knew it was work, but he was dead tired. That was why he had ignored the phone all night long. But now, it looked like they got him.
"What is it, Carter?" he asked wearily.
"It's Abby. She was hurt."
"What?" Luka rose from his seat in shock. He was not expecting that. "What happened?"
"It looks like she was mugged. She was hit on the head with a large object, and she's stable, but she still hasn't woken up."
Cell phone in hand, Luka was already headed for the door. "When did this happen?"
"Last night."
That stopped Luka cold. Last night. After he left her. She was probably so busy thinking about their fight, she didn't even notice the mugger until it was too late. The guilt weighed heavy on his mind. Why hadn't he walked her home? Why had he left her on the streets at night by herself?
"Luka? You there?"
"Yes, I'm here, and I'm on my way to the hospital."
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Luka had expected to see her lying alone in a bed, a heart monitor's beeping the only sound in the room. He couldn't have been more wrong.
He didn't even recognize all the faces that had crowded into Abby's room. Even from the hallway, he could hear the quiet buzzing that was always present in a sick room. All heads turned towards him, and a hush fell over the room as he entered.
"How is she?" he asked no one in particular as he walked over to her bedside.
"She's doing better. She still hasn't woken up," said Carter. Luka felt irritated by the fact that Carter was here before him; but that wasn't really anyone's fault.
She looked pale, weak. He had grabbed her chart as he walked in the room, but he hadn't so much as glanced at it. All he could think about was her.
He felt a lump in his throat as he looked down at her. A nurse had probably washed the blood from her face and hair, but there was a bandage wrapped around her head, and her face was swollen with bruises. He took her hand in his. It felt cold in his grasp.
Even though he knew the room was full of people, it seemed to him like it was just he and Abby. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, not caring who heard him. Why had he left her alone?
Whatever they had argued about last night seemed irrelevant now. All that mattered was that she recovered.
The chart said she had cracked her skull. What if there was brain damage? What if she was forever impaired because of him?
It's not my fault, he bargained with himself. How could I have known this would happen? Abby walks home by herself all the time! But he still felt the guilt, knowing he had let her down. "Who's her doctor?" he asked.
"Jennings," Carter said quickly, wanting to help in any way he could. "Want me to go get him?" Luka nodded. Carter left the room, and Luka turned his attention back to Abby.
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When Gilbert showed up at County, he wasn't sure where to start. He talked to the woman at the admit desk, and discovered that some of the victim's co-workers were visiting her in her hospital room. He got directions and went there.
When he got to the room, he discovered a man and two women sitting by a hospital bed. They all looked up when he came in. "I'm Detective Gilbert, Chicago PD. I'm investigating Abby Lockhart's attack?"
They nodded. The man stood up. "I'm Doctor Carter. I work with Abby. We all do," he said, gesturing to the women. Gilbert quickly compared him to the description he had been given by the anonymous source. Nope, it didn't fit.
"Of course, I want to talk to Miss Lockhart, but since I can't right now, I'd like to talk to whoever saw her last, see if I can figure out what happened. Does she have a boyfriend?" Gilbert asked, thinking about the anonymous tipster. What she had reported sounded like a lover's spat.
Carter thought the question a little odd, but answered it anyway. "Yes, she does. He went to the bathroom. He should be back any minute now."
On cue, Luka walked in the room. "What's going on?" he asked, looking at the police officer.
Gilbert immediately knew that he had his man. Tall, dark, with an accent. Now, he just had to see if this man had just yelled at his girlfriend, or done something even worse.
"I'm Detective Gilbert of the Chicago PD. I'm investigating your girlfriend's attack. Mind if we talk outside?"
"Sure," Luka said, following the man into the hallway.
"You were the last one to talk to Miss Lockhart before her attack?"
Luka nodded. "I think so."
"Could you tell me the circumstances?" Gilbert whipped out his notepad and prepared to start writing.
Luka shifted uncomfortably. "Why is that important?" he asked. He didn't want to go into the details of their relationship with a cop. Besides, what did that have to do with Abby being attacked?
"Well, Mr.-"
"Kovac," Luka filled in.
"Mr. Kovac, I always start an investigation by getting all the details. After I've done that, I decide what's important. Now, could you tell me everything that happened the last time you saw your girlfriend?"
Luka rubbed the back of his neck. What would be the point of telling the officer that they had yelled at each other and broken up? "Well, we went out for dinner, and we were done about 11:00. We took the El, and..." He paused. What should he say next? If he told the officer that he had followed Abby for a few blocks then walked back to the El station, that would sound suspicious. Maybe he should just pretend he had stayed on the El.
"Mr. Kovac?" Gilbert prompted.
"And I...Abby got off at her stop, and I rode for a few more minutes then got off at mine." He hoped the officer bought his story.
Gilbert pretended to be confused. "You mean you didn't get off with Abby?" he asked.
Luka paused. Should he tell the truth? No, he would just look suspicious if he changed his story now. "No, I didn't."
Gilbert stared at him. "A woman saw a man fitting your description walking with Abby on 75th. Now you wanna tell me what really happened?"
Luka gulped. That was so stupid; why hadn't he just told the truth? Now the officer was looking at him like he was the criminal. But if he came clean now, then he's really look guilty.
"I...I got off with her, and we were fighting. But I didn't really see why you needed to know that."
"As I said before, I get all the info first, then make my decisions. Now, you say you two were fighting?"
"Arguing. We were arguing," Luka corrected. He was sweating heavily, and Gilbert noticed it.
"What were you arguing about?"
Luka shrugged. "Nothing, unimportant stuff."
"And what happened next?"
"Nothing. I went back to the El station, went home."
"You two didn't have any kind of physical fight?"
Why did Luka feel like he was being backed into a corner. "No, we didn't."
Now Gilbert looked downright unfriendly. "We have a witness who says you shook Abby, that you two were physically fighting." That was stretching the truth a bit, but he wanted to see what Luka would say.
"That's ridiculous, I would never hurt Abby!" he said.
Gilbert had a cynical look on his face. "Well, I guess we'll just have to ask Abby, won't we? Just as soon as she wakes up. Maybe she'll be able to tell us who it was that hit her over the head."
Now Luka was mad. "What are you trying to say? That I attacked her? You're crazy!"
"I'm not saying anything. I just find it strange that, in five minutes, you've changed your story twice."
Luka shook his head. "But I didn't do it. I would never do that!"
Gilbert shrugged. "Guess we'll find out," he said.