Chapter Six: Downward Spiral
Luka hung his coat in his locker and slammed the door shut. He wished he didn't have a shift today. He wanted to be home, to make sure Abby was going to be okay. She'd had a rough night last night, and he wanted to be sure she knew she had his support.
He poured himself a cup of coffee, but put it down after only a sip. Whoever had made it obviously hadn't known what they were doing. He hoped this wasn't an indication of how the day was going to go.
The day had started off better than he would have expected. He'd opened his eyes this morning to see Abby's sleeping face. The swelling around her eye had gone down overnight, but the angry red and purple bruises remained. He'd been overwhelmed by his need to protect her. He vowed to himself that no matter what it took, nobody was going to hurt her again.
He slung his stethoscope around his neck as he left the lounge. He'd hated leaving Abby this morning. She'd seemed a little shy, a little embarrassed when she woke up, but she hadn't pulled away. It had been a long time since he'd felt as good as he had when he woke up with his arm around Abby. Even after breaking up, there was a closeness between them. He hadn't found that closeness with Carol before Abby had come along, and Nicole hadn't even come close. But he'd made a connection with Abby that wouldn't go away.
Susan was on the phone when he walked over to the admit area and examined the board. There were only seven patients on the board. That was good. It would give him a chance to call the police and make sure Brian had been arrested.
Susan put her hand over the phone. "Hey, Luka. Did you get ahold of Abby last night?"
"Yes. I found her."
"How is she?"
"She's feeling better. She's going to stay home today and rest."
"Home? Is she back at her apartment?"
"No. She's...staying with a friend."
"Did the police catch the guy who attacked her?"
"I don't know. I'm going to call and find out."
But at that moment a couple of paramedics pushed a gurney through the ambulance bay doors.
"A little help here, please," one of them called.
Luka glanced at the phone, then sighed as he walked around the counter. "What have you got?" he asked, forcing Brian from his mind. He was only able to do it because he knew Abby was safe inside his apartment.
"We've got an auto versus pedestrian," the paramedic said. "Jennifer Norwood, 25. She was trying to cross the street when a car plowed around the corner and rammed her. Brief LOC at the scene, BP's a little high at 135 over 95..."
Luka called Haleh and Chuny over to join him and directed everyone to Trauma Two. He ordered a battery of labs and x-rays and got started with his examination.
"Jennifer, I'm Dr. Kovac," he said as he listened to her breathing, then examined a laceration on her forehead. "Can you tell me where you feel pain?"
"Everywhere," she moaned. "That jerk came out of nowhere. He rammed into me and drove away."
"How long were you unconscious?"
"Only a couple minutes, I think. When he hit me I fell on my side and my head bounced off the ground. Please, can you give me something for the pain?"
"Let's give her ten of morphine," Luka said to Haleh.
"CT's backed up," Chuny said. "They won't be able to take her for twenty minutes."
"Okay. Let's get the portable x-ray in here. I think her shoulder may be broken."
Chuny nodded and turned away as the trauma room doors opened and a uniformed cop walked in. "I'm Officer Martinez," he said as he approached the gurney. "Can you describe the man who hit you?"
"I only saw him for a second," Jennifer said.
"That's okay. Anything you can tell us will help."
"He was white," she said with a frown. "He had dark hair. I don't think he was very old. Thirty, maybe."
"That's good," Officer Martinez said as he jotted the description down. "Did you get a look at the car he was driving?"
"It was dark blue I think, but I don't know what kind."
"Don't worry about it. We've got a couple witnesses at the scene. They might be able to give us a more detailed description. I'll stop by later in case you remember anything else."
Luka followed the cop out of the trauma room. "Officer, could you do a favor for me?"
"What do you need?"
"Yesterday I treated a woman who was beaten by her husband, and a few hours later he assaulted a member of our staff. I want to make sure he was arrested."
"What's this guy's name?"
"Brian Westlake."
Officer Martinez wrote the name down. "I'll call the station and check."
"Thanks. You can use the phone at the desk."
Luka turned and went back into the trauma room. The portable x-ray machine was brought in, and he confirmed that Jennifer did indeed have a fractured clavicle. He reached up to pull the x-ray down when Officer Martinez came back.
"Hey, Doc."
Luka walked over to where he was waiting by the door.
"The desk sergeant said they haven't found the guy yet, but we have his description. Is this him?"
Luka accepted the sheet of paper the officer held out. It was a wanted poster that detailed Brian's vital statistics and known locations. The picture printed on the page had probably come from his driver's license. "Yeah. That's him."
"All of the squad cars have these, so if anyone spots him we'll pick him up."
Luka swallowed the bile that rose in his throat. He was going to have to call and tell Abby that Brian was still out there. He was going to have to prolong her worry. "Thanks," he said woodenly, then went back into the trauma room to do his job.
..........
Abby sat down at Luka's table and swallowed a couple more Tylenol. She knew Luka would prescribe something stronger if she asked him, but the last thing she needed was something else she could get addicted to.
She hadn't told anybody that she'd started drinking again. Not that she was going out and getting drunk; she just had a beer every now and then. It wasn't a big deal. It had been an exceptionally bad way when she first decided to take a drink. She'd waited her entire shift for someone to remember that it was her birthday, but no one had. Not even Luka. Then Richard had chosen that day to tell her he was getting married again. It had capped off a day begun by overhearing another Brian and Joyce shouting match, and it hadn't seemed like a big deal to continue having a beer once in a while after that.
She rinsed her water glass and stood at the sink, wondering what to do next. Usually when she had a day off she could run errands or do the laundry, but not today. She and Luka both thought it was best if she stayed inside until they made sure Brian had been arrested. There was no telling what could happen if Brian found her again.
With a slight shiver, she sat down on the couch and propped her feet up on the coffee table. She grabbed her coat and pulled a scrap of paper out of the pocket. Before she'd left the hospital last night she'd scribbled down the number of the shelter Joyce was staying at. It would probably be a good idea to call again and make sure Joyce had made it through the night without any problems.
Her eyes were drifting shut when a female voice answered the phone. Abby sat up straight and said, "Yeah, hi. This is Abby Lockhart from County General. I treated a woman who checked into your center last night, and I wanted to talk to her, make sure she's okay."
"What's the woman's name?"
"Joyce Westlake."
"Hold on just a moment. I'll find her, see if she wants to talk to you."
Abby drummed her fingers on the arm of the couch as the woman clicked off and elevator music took her place. She could use some good news. She wanted to know something good had come out of this whole mess.
She stood up and walked over to the window. There were no shadows in the daylight. There was no one hiding beside the building. There probably hadn't been last night, either.
"Miss Lockhart?"
"Yeah, I'm here," she said as she turned away from the window.
"I'm sorry, but Miss Westlake isn't here."
Abby froze on her way back to the couch. "Not there?" she repeated, disbelief clear in her voice. "What do you mean, she's not there?"
"Miss Westlake's counselor just told me that she left early this morning."
Abby sunk down on the couch and dragged her hand through her hair. "Could I, uh...could I talk to this counselor for a minute?"
"Sure. Hold on."
Abby tipped her head back and closed her eyes. She tried to tell herself that it wasn't really true. There had been some mistake, that's all. Joyce wasn't gone. She hadn't left.
"Miss Lockhart? This is Christine James. I'm a counselor here. What can I do for you?"
"I'm trying to find out what happened to Joyce Westlake. She checked in there last night."
"Yes, she did. I spoke with her shortly after she checked in."
"Okay, so where is she now? The first lady I talked to said she wasn't there."
"I'm afraid she checked out early this morning. She thanked us for the bed, but said she didn't belong there."
Abby stood back up and started pacing. Her head was starting to throb; she hoped the Tylenol kicked in soon. "Why didn't you convince her to stay?" she asked.
"I understand your frustration, but there's only so much we can do. This isn't a prison."
"No, you don't understand. Joyce is my neighbor, and I listen to her fight with her husband almost every day. Yesterday afternoon she called and told me she was locked out of the building. I found her bloody and barefoot on the front stoop. And a couple hours after she checked into the shelter, her husband assaulted me. It is not safe for her to be out on the street."
"I'm sorry. If you find her, tell her she's welcome here and that she'll be safe. But I'm afraid I don't know where she went."
Abby went back to the window and stared out. "Thanks for your help," she said quietly, then disconnected. For long moments she stood, staring at nothing, worry gnawing at her gut. Apparently Joyce hadn't been as ready to get help as Abby had hoped. She was almost sure that once she left the shelter, Joyce would have gone looking for Brian. To make up, she would assume. But Abby was terrified that Brian wouldn't see things the same way.
After some time, Abby turned the phone back on and dialed the hospital.
..........
Luka walked over to the admit desk and stuck Jennifer's chart in the rack. In addition to the broken clavicle, she'd suffered a broken left femur and had numerous cuts and abrasions. He'd been too busy taking care of her to call Abby and tell her the bad news about Brian.
The phone rang and was answered by a newly-recovered but still grumpy Frank. "Hey, Kovac," he said after listening for a moment, then hanging the phone up. "There's a personal call for you on line two."
Luka glanced over at him. The call had to be from Abby. He never got personal calls while he was at the hospital. "I'll take it in the lounge," he said.
A moment later the lounge door swung shut behind him. He picked up the phone and pressed a blinking button. "This is Kovac."
"Luka, it's me," Abby said.
"Abby. Is everything all right?"
"No, everything's not all right. Joyce left the shelter."
Luka leaned against the door. "She left?"
"She told the counselor she didn't belong there, and she left early this morning." There was a pause, and Luka could hear Abby blow out a deep breath. "Luka, please tell me you talked to the police, and that they arrested Brian."
"I wish I could, Abby. But I talked to a police officer a while ago and he said they haven't found him yet."
"She went back to him," Abby muttered. "I thought I got through to her, but she went back to him."
"Listen, the police are going to find him."
"Yeah, but will it be too late?"
Luka rubbed at his eyes. He wished there was something he could do for her, but it was up to the police to find Brian. It wasn't as if he could go roam the streets and find the man himself. "I got Dr. Chen to cover the last half of my shift," he said finally. "I'll be back in a couple of hours, and we'll call the police again and see if they've found him. I don't know what else we can do."
"I know you're right," Abby said tiredly. "I'm just scared for her. She doesn't deserve this. He's going to beat the crap out of her again, or worse."
Luka didn't have a response to that. "I'll be home in a couple of hours," he repeated. "We'll figure everything out then."
After he hung up the phone, Luka slumped down on the couch and stared at the wall. He wanted, needed, to be home with Abby. She was obviously worried about Joyce, but it was hard to offer comfort over the phone. He looked up at the clock on the wall, but only a couple of minutes had passed since the last time he'd checked.
An hour later he put the finishing touches on a cast for a teenage boy who'd fallen off his skateboard. Chen should be here in another hour, he thought. Maybe until then he could hide out in the suture room with some charts. That way he wouldn't get sucked into any more complicated cases that would delay his departure.
He gathered a dozen charts and headed down the hall, but a voice stopped him. He turned around and saw Susan waving at him from the admit desk. Reluctantly he approached her. "There's a trauma coming in. An assault victim in bad shape. Can you take it? I'm swamped."
Luka sighed and dropped the charts on the desk. "Sure."
He grabbed some fresh gloves and went out in the ambulance bay. He heard the sirens coming from a distance, and it was eerily similar to last night, when he'd stood in almost the same spot, waiting for Abby's ambulance to arrive. Thank God she was safe now, he thought.
The ambulance pulled up and the back doors opened. Doris Pickman climbed out and helped unload the gurney. "Assault victim, female, probably late twenties, but it's hard to tell. She's been beaten pretty bad. Multiple contusions and abrasions, a couple broken ribs, possibly a collapsed lung. She's having trouble breathing. We intubated in the field. Her blood pressure's low..."
Luka looked down at the unconscious woman lying still on the gurney. His heart plummeted. Doris was right; it was hard to guess the woman's age. Her face was a mass of bruises and blood. But Luka had seen her before. He knew her age, and he knew her identity.
It was Joyce.
Luka hung his coat in his locker and slammed the door shut. He wished he didn't have a shift today. He wanted to be home, to make sure Abby was going to be okay. She'd had a rough night last night, and he wanted to be sure she knew she had his support.
He poured himself a cup of coffee, but put it down after only a sip. Whoever had made it obviously hadn't known what they were doing. He hoped this wasn't an indication of how the day was going to go.
The day had started off better than he would have expected. He'd opened his eyes this morning to see Abby's sleeping face. The swelling around her eye had gone down overnight, but the angry red and purple bruises remained. He'd been overwhelmed by his need to protect her. He vowed to himself that no matter what it took, nobody was going to hurt her again.
He slung his stethoscope around his neck as he left the lounge. He'd hated leaving Abby this morning. She'd seemed a little shy, a little embarrassed when she woke up, but she hadn't pulled away. It had been a long time since he'd felt as good as he had when he woke up with his arm around Abby. Even after breaking up, there was a closeness between them. He hadn't found that closeness with Carol before Abby had come along, and Nicole hadn't even come close. But he'd made a connection with Abby that wouldn't go away.
Susan was on the phone when he walked over to the admit area and examined the board. There were only seven patients on the board. That was good. It would give him a chance to call the police and make sure Brian had been arrested.
Susan put her hand over the phone. "Hey, Luka. Did you get ahold of Abby last night?"
"Yes. I found her."
"How is she?"
"She's feeling better. She's going to stay home today and rest."
"Home? Is she back at her apartment?"
"No. She's...staying with a friend."
"Did the police catch the guy who attacked her?"
"I don't know. I'm going to call and find out."
But at that moment a couple of paramedics pushed a gurney through the ambulance bay doors.
"A little help here, please," one of them called.
Luka glanced at the phone, then sighed as he walked around the counter. "What have you got?" he asked, forcing Brian from his mind. He was only able to do it because he knew Abby was safe inside his apartment.
"We've got an auto versus pedestrian," the paramedic said. "Jennifer Norwood, 25. She was trying to cross the street when a car plowed around the corner and rammed her. Brief LOC at the scene, BP's a little high at 135 over 95..."
Luka called Haleh and Chuny over to join him and directed everyone to Trauma Two. He ordered a battery of labs and x-rays and got started with his examination.
"Jennifer, I'm Dr. Kovac," he said as he listened to her breathing, then examined a laceration on her forehead. "Can you tell me where you feel pain?"
"Everywhere," she moaned. "That jerk came out of nowhere. He rammed into me and drove away."
"How long were you unconscious?"
"Only a couple minutes, I think. When he hit me I fell on my side and my head bounced off the ground. Please, can you give me something for the pain?"
"Let's give her ten of morphine," Luka said to Haleh.
"CT's backed up," Chuny said. "They won't be able to take her for twenty minutes."
"Okay. Let's get the portable x-ray in here. I think her shoulder may be broken."
Chuny nodded and turned away as the trauma room doors opened and a uniformed cop walked in. "I'm Officer Martinez," he said as he approached the gurney. "Can you describe the man who hit you?"
"I only saw him for a second," Jennifer said.
"That's okay. Anything you can tell us will help."
"He was white," she said with a frown. "He had dark hair. I don't think he was very old. Thirty, maybe."
"That's good," Officer Martinez said as he jotted the description down. "Did you get a look at the car he was driving?"
"It was dark blue I think, but I don't know what kind."
"Don't worry about it. We've got a couple witnesses at the scene. They might be able to give us a more detailed description. I'll stop by later in case you remember anything else."
Luka followed the cop out of the trauma room. "Officer, could you do a favor for me?"
"What do you need?"
"Yesterday I treated a woman who was beaten by her husband, and a few hours later he assaulted a member of our staff. I want to make sure he was arrested."
"What's this guy's name?"
"Brian Westlake."
Officer Martinez wrote the name down. "I'll call the station and check."
"Thanks. You can use the phone at the desk."
Luka turned and went back into the trauma room. The portable x-ray machine was brought in, and he confirmed that Jennifer did indeed have a fractured clavicle. He reached up to pull the x-ray down when Officer Martinez came back.
"Hey, Doc."
Luka walked over to where he was waiting by the door.
"The desk sergeant said they haven't found the guy yet, but we have his description. Is this him?"
Luka accepted the sheet of paper the officer held out. It was a wanted poster that detailed Brian's vital statistics and known locations. The picture printed on the page had probably come from his driver's license. "Yeah. That's him."
"All of the squad cars have these, so if anyone spots him we'll pick him up."
Luka swallowed the bile that rose in his throat. He was going to have to call and tell Abby that Brian was still out there. He was going to have to prolong her worry. "Thanks," he said woodenly, then went back into the trauma room to do his job.
..........
Abby sat down at Luka's table and swallowed a couple more Tylenol. She knew Luka would prescribe something stronger if she asked him, but the last thing she needed was something else she could get addicted to.
She hadn't told anybody that she'd started drinking again. Not that she was going out and getting drunk; she just had a beer every now and then. It wasn't a big deal. It had been an exceptionally bad way when she first decided to take a drink. She'd waited her entire shift for someone to remember that it was her birthday, but no one had. Not even Luka. Then Richard had chosen that day to tell her he was getting married again. It had capped off a day begun by overhearing another Brian and Joyce shouting match, and it hadn't seemed like a big deal to continue having a beer once in a while after that.
She rinsed her water glass and stood at the sink, wondering what to do next. Usually when she had a day off she could run errands or do the laundry, but not today. She and Luka both thought it was best if she stayed inside until they made sure Brian had been arrested. There was no telling what could happen if Brian found her again.
With a slight shiver, she sat down on the couch and propped her feet up on the coffee table. She grabbed her coat and pulled a scrap of paper out of the pocket. Before she'd left the hospital last night she'd scribbled down the number of the shelter Joyce was staying at. It would probably be a good idea to call again and make sure Joyce had made it through the night without any problems.
Her eyes were drifting shut when a female voice answered the phone. Abby sat up straight and said, "Yeah, hi. This is Abby Lockhart from County General. I treated a woman who checked into your center last night, and I wanted to talk to her, make sure she's okay."
"What's the woman's name?"
"Joyce Westlake."
"Hold on just a moment. I'll find her, see if she wants to talk to you."
Abby drummed her fingers on the arm of the couch as the woman clicked off and elevator music took her place. She could use some good news. She wanted to know something good had come out of this whole mess.
She stood up and walked over to the window. There were no shadows in the daylight. There was no one hiding beside the building. There probably hadn't been last night, either.
"Miss Lockhart?"
"Yeah, I'm here," she said as she turned away from the window.
"I'm sorry, but Miss Westlake isn't here."
Abby froze on her way back to the couch. "Not there?" she repeated, disbelief clear in her voice. "What do you mean, she's not there?"
"Miss Westlake's counselor just told me that she left early this morning."
Abby sunk down on the couch and dragged her hand through her hair. "Could I, uh...could I talk to this counselor for a minute?"
"Sure. Hold on."
Abby tipped her head back and closed her eyes. She tried to tell herself that it wasn't really true. There had been some mistake, that's all. Joyce wasn't gone. She hadn't left.
"Miss Lockhart? This is Christine James. I'm a counselor here. What can I do for you?"
"I'm trying to find out what happened to Joyce Westlake. She checked in there last night."
"Yes, she did. I spoke with her shortly after she checked in."
"Okay, so where is she now? The first lady I talked to said she wasn't there."
"I'm afraid she checked out early this morning. She thanked us for the bed, but said she didn't belong there."
Abby stood back up and started pacing. Her head was starting to throb; she hoped the Tylenol kicked in soon. "Why didn't you convince her to stay?" she asked.
"I understand your frustration, but there's only so much we can do. This isn't a prison."
"No, you don't understand. Joyce is my neighbor, and I listen to her fight with her husband almost every day. Yesterday afternoon she called and told me she was locked out of the building. I found her bloody and barefoot on the front stoop. And a couple hours after she checked into the shelter, her husband assaulted me. It is not safe for her to be out on the street."
"I'm sorry. If you find her, tell her she's welcome here and that she'll be safe. But I'm afraid I don't know where she went."
Abby went back to the window and stared out. "Thanks for your help," she said quietly, then disconnected. For long moments she stood, staring at nothing, worry gnawing at her gut. Apparently Joyce hadn't been as ready to get help as Abby had hoped. She was almost sure that once she left the shelter, Joyce would have gone looking for Brian. To make up, she would assume. But Abby was terrified that Brian wouldn't see things the same way.
After some time, Abby turned the phone back on and dialed the hospital.
..........
Luka walked over to the admit desk and stuck Jennifer's chart in the rack. In addition to the broken clavicle, she'd suffered a broken left femur and had numerous cuts and abrasions. He'd been too busy taking care of her to call Abby and tell her the bad news about Brian.
The phone rang and was answered by a newly-recovered but still grumpy Frank. "Hey, Kovac," he said after listening for a moment, then hanging the phone up. "There's a personal call for you on line two."
Luka glanced over at him. The call had to be from Abby. He never got personal calls while he was at the hospital. "I'll take it in the lounge," he said.
A moment later the lounge door swung shut behind him. He picked up the phone and pressed a blinking button. "This is Kovac."
"Luka, it's me," Abby said.
"Abby. Is everything all right?"
"No, everything's not all right. Joyce left the shelter."
Luka leaned against the door. "She left?"
"She told the counselor she didn't belong there, and she left early this morning." There was a pause, and Luka could hear Abby blow out a deep breath. "Luka, please tell me you talked to the police, and that they arrested Brian."
"I wish I could, Abby. But I talked to a police officer a while ago and he said they haven't found him yet."
"She went back to him," Abby muttered. "I thought I got through to her, but she went back to him."
"Listen, the police are going to find him."
"Yeah, but will it be too late?"
Luka rubbed at his eyes. He wished there was something he could do for her, but it was up to the police to find Brian. It wasn't as if he could go roam the streets and find the man himself. "I got Dr. Chen to cover the last half of my shift," he said finally. "I'll be back in a couple of hours, and we'll call the police again and see if they've found him. I don't know what else we can do."
"I know you're right," Abby said tiredly. "I'm just scared for her. She doesn't deserve this. He's going to beat the crap out of her again, or worse."
Luka didn't have a response to that. "I'll be home in a couple of hours," he repeated. "We'll figure everything out then."
After he hung up the phone, Luka slumped down on the couch and stared at the wall. He wanted, needed, to be home with Abby. She was obviously worried about Joyce, but it was hard to offer comfort over the phone. He looked up at the clock on the wall, but only a couple of minutes had passed since the last time he'd checked.
An hour later he put the finishing touches on a cast for a teenage boy who'd fallen off his skateboard. Chen should be here in another hour, he thought. Maybe until then he could hide out in the suture room with some charts. That way he wouldn't get sucked into any more complicated cases that would delay his departure.
He gathered a dozen charts and headed down the hall, but a voice stopped him. He turned around and saw Susan waving at him from the admit desk. Reluctantly he approached her. "There's a trauma coming in. An assault victim in bad shape. Can you take it? I'm swamped."
Luka sighed and dropped the charts on the desk. "Sure."
He grabbed some fresh gloves and went out in the ambulance bay. He heard the sirens coming from a distance, and it was eerily similar to last night, when he'd stood in almost the same spot, waiting for Abby's ambulance to arrive. Thank God she was safe now, he thought.
The ambulance pulled up and the back doors opened. Doris Pickman climbed out and helped unload the gurney. "Assault victim, female, probably late twenties, but it's hard to tell. She's been beaten pretty bad. Multiple contusions and abrasions, a couple broken ribs, possibly a collapsed lung. She's having trouble breathing. We intubated in the field. Her blood pressure's low..."
Luka looked down at the unconscious woman lying still on the gurney. His heart plummeted. Doris was right; it was hard to guess the woman's age. Her face was a mass of bruises and blood. But Luka had seen her before. He knew her age, and he knew her identity.
It was Joyce.