19.
Schell woke up and saw that she had been moved out of the recovery room. How long she had been sleeping was next to impossible to determine. Her eyes felt heavy, and it was with effort that she struggled to open them again, and realized it was the drugs that coursed through her system. Gingerly, she reached up with her good hand, nudged aside the blanket, and lifted trembling fingers to her fat lip. She barely felt the sutures, two of them, just above her puffy and swollen upper right lip. She sighed, frowning a little, and noticed that her left arm was strapped to her body and that her stomach felt decidedly odd, like there was something on it. Taking time to assess things, she went from gingerly feeling the sutures on her lip to the oxygen tube in her nose. Car accident, a nurse had said when she had awakened from the surgery, she had been in a car accident.
She couldn't remember.
On her left finger was a pressure clip, which constantly and regularly monitored her vital signs from a machine parked to the left of her, and next to that was the self-dosing pain machine, the control of which was draped across her and within easy reach of her free right hand. An IV was inserted in the back of the left hand, reminding her that needles made her queasy. She swallowed thickly, frowned, and reached down to feel for the pain machine control, the nurse's call button and the bed control. Everything about her felt as heavy as lead. Trying to lift her head to look down, she became aware that someone was in the room with her.
Slowly, she turned her head right, and stared in confusion at a man sitting in a chair, relaxed and comfortable, one leg crossed and reading through a rather thick file, which he was making notes on a tablet from. He was a brunette and he looked vaguely familiar. Schell just couldn't place him, despite noticing a silver badge on his belt.
Badge, she thought. Where was Horatio?
She struggled to remember. A nurse had said something that a tall, red-haired detective had been there and asking about her, but that he had suddenly been called away. Then who was this…?
She frowned her confusion, and glanced towards the door, to see a uniformed officer standing just outside. Now she really felt confused.
She wasn't aware she had groaned, until she noticed the head of the brunette in the chair look up suddenly, his dark eyes searching hers.
"Miss Demereau?" he asked, pausing in his work.
"Sergeant Stetler?" she mumbled. She winced, reaching up to gingerly feel her lip.
Rick Stetler sat up, flipping his folder closed and set it aside, before taking his notebook and pulling his chair closer to the bed.
"What are you doing here?" Schell asked, still looking confused. "Where is Lieutenant Caine?"
"Actually, he is the reason why I'm here, Miss Demereau," Stetler replied, reaching into a pocket and pulling out a small tape recorder. "I need to ask you a few questions concerning him," he turned the machine on, setting it on the bedside stand. "Some very serious questions about him."
Schell blinked her misunderstanding, looking away from the man and staring at her foot.
"Maybe I could help raise the bed up? Make it easier for you to stay focused?" Stetler said and before she realized it, he was raising the head of the bed up for her to be in more of a sitting position. The world momentarily spun, as she closed her eyes a moment, frowning in consternation, as he set the controls back down near her hand.
"What do you want?" she asked groggily. "Why is there a policeman outside?"
"You don't know? Horatio ordered protective custody for you," Stetler replied. "Something about a sniper trying to kill you in Seattle? I have a lot of questions for you about that, but first there a few other things I need to know."
Sniper? Seattle? "What?" Schell asked, perplexed.
"Just how long have you known Horatio Caine?" Stetler asked, sitting forward, his dark eyed gaze never leaving her face. He knit his fingers together and waited for an answer.
"What are you talking about?" Schell asked.
"I'm trying to establish how long you've known Lt. Caine. Did you know him when he was in New York?"
"New York?" Schell asked, looking at Stetler, baffled.
"Sure, New York. He told you he lived there didn't he? That he has an ex-wife there and that that was where he was involved in the murder of the man who killed his mother? Surely you knew about this, correct?" Stetler asked.
Schell could only stare at him, her mouth open in shock. Rick's eyes opened wide in surprise.
"Please don't tell me you don't know this about Horatio Caine? He just got subpoenaed for suspicion of murder in that man's death. You didn't know this?"
"W…what?" Schell whispered, appalled.
"Oh, come on now, Miss Demereau. I am trying to ascertain what you might know concerning Lieutenant Caine's past activities. He's under investigation by the Internal Affairs Bureau here," Stetler slapped the file on his lap. "Did you know that?"
"No, I didn't, I…" she started to say, staring at the man before her in horror.
"Oh, please," Stetler replied, rolling his eyes and sitting back. "He didn't tell you that he's also under investigation for the death a woman named Rachel Turner? A woman he had been out on a date with about a month or so ago? Who was stabbed to death that night? Horatio Caine was the last person to see that woman alive. He's the prime suspect in her murder. You don't know anything about that either, I suppose, right?"
Schell could only look at Stetler in shock.
"Well if such is the case, then obviously he also didn't tell that his sister-in-law, a Detective Yelina Salas, a woman he was known to have considerably deep feelings for, abruptly disappeared along with her son this past summer. Just how well do you know this man, Miss Demereau?" Stetler asked again, folding his fingers. He tapped his index fingers together, waiting for an answer.
"Has he told you that he has a five-year-old illegitimate niece that he's been paying support for? His dead brother's mistress's child? Or the fact that his dead brother was dirty cop? It's been my observation, having investigated other cops for a long time now, that dirty cops come from the same families."
Stetler watched the colour, what little there was, utterly drain out of Schell's face. He leaned forward again.
"You know, for someone he's let ride around in an official police vehicle, you don't know a whole lot about him, do you? How potentially life threatening could that be?" Stetler asked. "So Miss Demereau, just what exactly is it you are involved in that would make him order this kind of protection? Being police related, I am compelled to ask questions about it, and as Horatio Caine is under several, very serious, investigations himself, we have a lot of questions, and you are going to provide me with some of the answers."
Stetler sat back with something of a smug smile and added, "Somehow though, seeing that is Horatio Caine we're discussing, I am not at all surprised he wouldn't tell you about the dirty laundry in his closet."
The bile hit her so fast that she could only move in one direction. The rail was in the way, and she barely moved fast enough to grasp it before throwing up over the edge of the bed.
Stetler jerked back and up, popping out of the chair as if on a spring, letting out an aggravated snarl as what little contents were in her stomach hit the floor and his shoes. At the same time, a clip that had been attached to the back of her gown, had been pulled hard at her sudden movement, alerting the nurse's station that something was going on.
Within minutes, as Schell lay helplessly and awkwardly over the rail, still retching in a convulsive sob, a nurse dashed into the room.
She assessed the situation in one glance, and quickly poked her head back out the door, "Greta, come on over here, I need your help!" She looked at Stetler, "You'll have to step out of the room, sir, now!" She ordered and began pushing him backwards out of the room.
"She just puked on my shoes!" he protested.
"She just got out of surgery!" the nurse shot back and shoved him out of the room as another nurse arrived. She dashed past Stetler, grabbed the drape that went around the bed and jerked it around, and blocked his view.
"Wait a sec, I need that file!" Stetler objected, trying to walk back into the room. The nurse looked at him in exasperation, reached over to grab the file and slapped it into his chest.
"Now please, just wait outside!" She snapped before diving behind the curtain.
Stetler, looking at his reeking shoes in utter distaste, backed out of the room, clutching his file.
In the room, the other nurse, Greta, was gently pulling a visibly shaking, and now weeping, Schell back off the bed rail.
"It's all right, hon, it's all right. Don't worry about it, we'll take care of it. This stuff happens all the time." She reassured as the other nurse instantly began getting stuff from the nearby restroom to clean up the mess.
"Don't let him back in here…" Schell managed to gasp. "Please!" she pleaded, "Don't let him back in here."
The other nurse, dropping down towels, looked at Schell, whom Greta was helping; rearranging the oxygen tubes in her nose, as well as helping her with a glass of water, letting her spit the remaining bile out into a bedpan.
"Miss, did he upset you?" she asked as Greta settled Schell back, who had gulped water down as if her life depended on it. Schell barely nodded her head, as she struggled to regain her composure.
"Please don't let him back in here," she pleaded again, reaching up and trying to wipe the tears from her eyes.
"Can I get you anything else?" Greta asked, stroking Schell's hair back as she tried to calm her down as the other nurse, furious now, attacked the mess on the floor, rapidly cleaning it up before wiping down the area with a disinfectant.
"Dr. Alexx Woods…" Schell managed to gasp. "Get Dr. Alexx Woods, tell her I need her," Schell pleaded. "I need her, now."