Dead Love - By Wells, Linda Page 0,1

humidity. They grew impatient as they waited for the train. None had noticed the small gray aerosol canister sitting behind a cement support column in a dark recess of the station. The can was spraying quietly, releasing an odorless vapor straight up into the acrid, stagnant air. It was dispersing an invisible cloud, sending particles at least one hundred feet in all directions.

As the train came to a halt at the station, the automatic doors opened, and Maggie and the others pushed into the crowded car, everyone in a hurry to reach their destination.

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2

It was early Monday morning and very busy in the emergency room at All Saints Hospital in downtown Manhattan. Several of the examination cubicles were occupied with critical patients from the night before, waiting for admission. Others had crying babies, children with the flu, or patients with open cuts that needed stitching. Several patients that had arrived with chest pain or abdominal pain had been examined, x-rayed, and needed further observation before being sent home. Dr. David Grant was a board-certified emergency room physician and director of the Emergency Department. His high standards and brusque manner kept the ER staff at peak performance. He would tolerate only the most skilled doctors and nurses. Some of the staff were afraid of him and his harsh criticism, but he was highly respected by all of his colleagues.

Dave was finally off duty after a twelve-hour shift. During those hours, Dr. Grant and the other two ER physicians and the nursing staff had seen eighty-four patients nonstop. He thrived on the adrenaline high of the job, but it was exhausting. He was in his office, located in the rear of the ER, behind the nurses’ lounge. Sitting at his cluttered oak desk, reading glasses perched on the end of his nose, he studied the test results from one of the seriously ill patients remaining in the ER. Christina Noel, head nurse of the ER, had brought in the patient’s chart and a cup of black coffee. She stood near him as he looked over the report.

Chris was staring at him as she waited for him to finish his thoughts. He had slate blue eyes, a graying crew cut and taut build. They shared the same passion and energy for their work and a deep mutual attraction. She placed the much needed coffee on his desk.

After studying the reports, Dave threw the papers on the desk, took his glasses off, and rubbed his eyes. He picked up the warm mug, took a sip, and said, “Thanks, Chris.”

She asked, “How is he doing?”

Dr. Grant exhaled, leaning back in his chair, and replied, “He’ll make it, but he needs a cardiologist. Call Dr. Stone and request a consult. He needs a cardiac cath and possible stent. I don’t like the looks of his enzymes or his EKG.”

Chris picked up the phone and called Dr. Stone’s office, requesting the consult.

“She can see him this morning after finishing her rounds,” said Chris.

“Good. Thanks, Chris.” He looked up at her, realizing she had been watching at him.

Chris moved behind him and started rubbing his shoulders. She could feel him relax as she massaged his back and neck. She knew how exhausted he must be. It had been a tense night. When Dave started as the emergency room director, Chris was thrilled. She was thirty-five, divorced, and had found no man appealing until Dave. Everyone knew they were lovers, except his wife. Dave and Chris shared not only a drive for perfection but compassion for their patients. They made a great team, in and out of the hospital.

They had met a year ago when he moved from Vancouver, Washington, to Manhattan. He wanted the challenge of a New York hospital setting, where he was also on the teaching staff. It was a prestige position, and the money was excellent. His wife, Vicki, wasn’t happy with the move and made that perfectly clear. Their twenty-year marriage was floundering anyway, but the move was the final blow. She had stayed with him, though, and moved to New York. The money, power, and status were all she wanted. Their unspoken agreement was that their marriage was one of convenience. She took care of his home and their teenage daughter, Carolyn, and portrayed the proper wife when he had to attend social functions. He gave her what she wanted, the large paycheck and, more importantly, the status of being married to a brilliant doctor. Image was everything to Vicki.

Chris was strikingly pretty,