Page 22 of Dirty Little Secret
Chapter 8
Kane
“Hello?” I sat up when I heard my cell go off. “Shit.” It was five in the morning, the Sunday after my night out, and even though I’d gone home relatively early, I was a bit out of it. Picking up the phone, I saw that it was another doctor from the hospital I worked at. “Hey, Jack. What’s up?”
“Me. With my sick daughter. She’s puking everywhere, and her mother’s out of town. I’ve got the day shift at the ER today, but I’m going to need to stay here to take care of her. Do you think you can go in for me today?”
“Yeah.” I was always one to help out others. “I’ll do it. You just take care of your little girl, Jack.”
“Thanks. You’re the best.” He hung up, and I rolled out of bed.
One hot shower, a cold blueberry muffin, and a hot cup of coffee later and I was on my way to the hospital. There weren’t any cars in the ER parking lot. Most Sundays were easy. I wasn’t worried about being swamped.
Heading in through the sliding glass door, I walked past the nurse’s station, calling out to the blonde who sat at the desk. “Buzz me in, please.”
“Good morning, Dr. Price. I thought Dr. Friday was scheduled for today,” she said just before I got to the door.
Grabbing the handle and pulling it open, I nodded. “Yeah, he was. His kid got sick, and he asked me to take this shift. How’s it been so far?”
“Quiet. A typical Sunday.” She went back to reading a book, and I went into the back.
An office had been set up for the doctors on duty. I went to it, using my key to open it. The smell of cleaning products stung my nose. I should’ve been used to it by now, but I didn’t think it’d ever be easier to smell. The scents were just so pungent.
Going straight to the coffee machine, I started up a pot before opening the computer to see what had happened the night before. “Gunshot. Stab wound. Rabies?” I had to look at that entry again. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”
Pulling up the results, I found that a man had come in with a bite from his pet bat.
Who the hell owns a pet bat?
I found there were a few patients who’d been admitted to the hospital for their conditions, and the man with possible rabies was one of them. I had to go meet this guy.
Heading out of the ER to go up to the rooms, I crossed paths with one of the men who worked in laundry as he was pushing his heavy cart along the hallway. “Hey, Gerald. How’s it going today?”
“It’s going, doc. How’re things with you?” He stopped as he got to the staff elevator. I decided to ride up with him.
“Well, I’m on my way up to see a man who was bitten by his own pet bat,” I answered after stepping on the elevator with him. “He’s worried about rabies.”
“No shit?” he laughed as he shook his head. “The things people do, huh?”
“Yep.” The patient was set up on the third floor. “Here’s my stop.”
“I think I’ll get off here too and go on ahead and pick up the dirty linen on this floor,” Gerald said with a grin. “I’ve got to take a gander at this gentleman.”
Heading to room 352, I tried to gain control over my expression. I didn’t want to bust out laughing or anything like that. A light tap on his door and Mr. Jim Jones croaked, “I’m up. Come in.”
Pushing the door open all the way, I was ready to see some kind of character. Imagine my surprise when a normal-looking older man sat up in the bed to welcome me in. Gerald was right behind me with his laundry cart. “Well, I’ll be. You ain’t what I was expecting.”
The old guy laughed. “Yeah, I know. Who owns a bat as a pet? And a vampire bat, at that.”
“A vampire bat?” I asked as I wondered how one even acquired such a thing. “Is that even legal?”
The old guy shrugged. “Not sure about that. You don’t suppose your hospital will tell on me, do ya?”
I truly had no idea. “Let’s hope not. Imagine the fine for owning a vampire bat. Well, let’s move past that. Was the bat—um.” I had no idea how to put it. The thing was the man’s pet, after all.
“Murdered?” he asked me with a straight face.
“For lack of a better word, yes,” I said.
