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She uncovered a secret someone will kill for...
But he’s determined she’ll survive
Reporting missing narcotics lands nurse Audrey Harris and her patients in the crosshairs of a ruthless thief. But when marine sergeant Julian Tan is one of the patients in danger, the criminals unwittingly provide her with a strong—and handsome—protector. On the run, Julian and Audrey must stop a crime boss...or become the next to fall.
KAREN KIRST was born and raised in east Tennessee near the Great Smoky Mountains. She’s a lifelong lover of books, but it wasn’t until after college that she had the grand idea to write one herself. Now she divides her time between being a wife, homeschooling mom and romance writer. Her favorite pastimes are reading, visiting tearooms and watching romantic comedies.
Also By Karen Kirst
Explosive Reunion
Intensive Care Crisis
Smoky Mountain Matches
The Reluctant Outlaw
The Bridal Swap
The Gift of Family
“Smoky Mountain Christmas”
His Mountain Miss
The Husband Hunt
Married by Christmas
From Boss to Bridegroom
The Bachelor’s Homecoming
Reclaiming His Past
The Sheriff’s Christmas Twins
Wed by Necessity
The Engagement Charade
A Lawman for Christmas
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk
Intensive Care Crisis
Karen Kirst
www.millsandboon.co.uk
ISBN: 978-1-474-09694-2
INTENSIVE CARE CRISIS
© 2019 Karen Vyskocil
Published in Great Britain 2019
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.
www.millsandboon.co.uk
Version: 2020-03-02
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Text to speech
The hair on Audrey’s arms stood to attention.
“Hello?”
Something hard and unyielding came up and over her head and pressed against her throat, cutting off her air supply. Silencing her. The scrubs slipped from her fingers. Reaching up, she gripped the stick. Can’t breathe.
She couldn’t dislodge it. He was immovable, her captor, his arms and chest forming a vise around her.
Dots danced in her vision. She struggled. Writhed. Kicked. Her lungs stretched to the bursting point.
Audrey reached up to claw at his face. If she could gouge his eyes—
He increased the pressure, consciousness ebbed.
Suddenly, shouts pierced the black cloud. The arms around her went slack.
Audrey swayed and fell to her knees. A scuffle ensued between her attacker and would-be rescuer. In the murky light, she recognized the stark white dressing on the second man’s arm.
He shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t be engaging a murderer in his condition, most likely the same man who tried to kill him mere days ago.
“Julian,” Audrey gasped.
Dear Reader,
Thank you for choosing to read this second book about US Marine Corps heroes. There’s a saying among authors that some books seem to write themselves. This happened to be one of them. From the beginning, Julian and Audrey proved to be fun, interesting characters to explore. I liked the idea of passing acquaintances whose paths might not ever cross, if not for extraordinary circumstances. I hope you enjoyed their story. Next up is Captain Brady Johnson.
Find more about my books at www.karenkirst.com. I’m also on Facebook and Twitter, @karenkirst. You can also email me at karenkirst@live.com.
Blessings,
Karen Kirst
But as for you, ye thought evil against me; but God meant it unto good, to bring to pass, as it is this day, to save much people alive.
—Genesis 50:20
To my dear friend Rebecca Sardella. Your support and enthusiasm for my stories have been a great source of encouragement. Thank you.
Acknowledgments
A huge thank-you to Edelyn Bishop, RN, MSN, MBA. Your medical knowledge and input during this process were invaluable.
Thank you to my niece, Jessica Felker, RN, BSN. You were a great source of information, especially during the planning of this story.
Any mistakes were my own.
Contents
Cover
Back Cover Text
About the Author
Booklist
Title Page
Copyright
Note to Readers
Introduction
Dear Reader
Bible Verse
Dedication
Acknowledgments
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
TWENTY-ONE
EPILOGUE
Extract
About the Publisher
ONE
Jacksonville, North Carolina
Someone was harming her patients.
Audrey Harris was determined not to let anything happen to the force-recon marine currently in her care. Not only was Sergeant Julian Tan her neighbor, but he was also in her father’s unit. Fortunately, the recovery room where she worked had only three patients this morning, and they weren’t scheduled to receive more until after lunch.
She reassessed the IV lines and inspected the dressing on his lower arm.
“My team,” he murmured, shifting restlessly beneath the thin sheet. “Have to reach them.”
Audrey winced. His team was gone, their deaths the result of a training exercise gone horribly wrong. Julian had escaped with several broken bones in his left arm and wrist. The first surgery—performed a month ago, at the time of the accident—had been a success, but he’d had an allergic reaction to the stitches. They’d had to go back in and replace them.
His head lifted from the starched pillowcase. “Where are they?” he demanded in a thick, slurred voice.
“You’ve had a surgical procedure and will feel groggy for a while. As soon as the anesthesia wears off, I’ll take you to post-op.” Typically, those nurses would retrieve him, but she wasn’t letting him out of her sight.
His eyes, shimmering like copper pennies in a fountain, narrowed in confusion. “I’m in the hospital? Where are the others?”
She’d been on shift when he’d been brought in with the marines who’d initially survived the helicopter crash. While she hadn’t been assigned to him, she remembered he’d responded poorly to anesthesia and woke disgruntled.
Audrey wished he didn’t have to relive the news of his fellow marines’ deaths. Coming around to the other side of the bed, she laid her hand on his shoulder.
“Julian, is the anti-nausea medicine I gave you working?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Are you feeling sick to your stomach?”
When he didn’t answer, she clicked off the overhead light. “Try and rest, okay?”
She started to move away. His uninjured hand clamped over her lower arm, preventing her from leaving.
“Who are you?”
The strength in his grip surprised her. Not because of his physique—he was hewn from steel, it seemed, his body the military’s version of a living weapon—but because he was still suffering the effects of powerful medication.
Audrey covered his large, calloused hand with her own, trying to reassure him with her touch. “Audrey Harris. We live in the same apartment complex.”
Julian’s face remained blank. Even fully alert, she doubted he’d remember her. He wasn’t the sort to flirt and make small talk, like some of the single male residents. When he wasn’t off saving the world, he went about his daily life with single-minded focus. She passed him sometimes on his way to the apartment’s gym and indoor pool.
The squeak of rubber soles on the polished tiles heralded her coworker’s arrival. “How’s our wounded warrior doing?”
Chasity Bateman’s sparse eyebrows lifted at the sight of their joined hands. Audrey separated herself from his hold and pulled aside her friend and fellow nurse.
“He’s out of sorts, and who can blame him?”
“Good thing he has a pretty nurse to distract him from his troubles.” Stray blond curls peeked out from her surgical cap.
“I don’t date patients.”
“You don’t date anyone. That’s the problem.”
Audrey glanced at the bed. His eyes were closed, his spiky lashes forming dark crescents against gold-dust skin. Julian Tan was a striking man. Short, sleek brown-black hair framed proud, angular features offset by a generous mouth. He was strong and handsome, but intense and private. In their one exchange, when her father had introduced them, she’d gotten the impression that few people were allowed into his personal circle.
“A handsome, intriguing guy like him could be the one to make you finally forget about Seth.”
Grief pinched her—less potently than in the past, which troubled her. “I can’t forget.”
Chasity nudged her. “There’s no crime in having a little fun. Seth wouldn’t begrudge you that.”
“Shouldn’t you be with your patients?”
The recovery area in their modest-size hospital consisted of a single, long room with beds lining both walls and an aisle in the middle. There were privacy curtains, but none were currently in use. Near the entry doors, two women occupied beds opposite each other. Both were quiet.
Too quiet?
“What happened last week was a fluke, you know,” Chasity said, picking up on her sudden anxiety.
Audrey tugged on the ID card hanging around her neck, then allowed it to snap back into place. “A fluke? Alex Shields had an allergic reaction that could’ve killed him. Wanda Ferrier came in for outpatient surgery but wound up staying five days because she was given the wrong dosage.” Her heart pounded with remembered dread. “Someone stole my log-in, Chasity, and deliberately set out to harm my patients.”
Her friend was unable to mask her skepticism. “I know it’s hard to accept that we’re capable of mistakes, but we all get busy and distracted.”
“This isn’t a case of simple carelessness. I’m being made to look incompetent.”
All because she’d done the right thing. In recent weeks, she’d noticed inconsistencies between the supply list and the actual supplies in their stockroom. More serious was her suspicion that an Onslow General employee was diverting narcotics and other medicines. She’d spoken to a handful of her coworkers in the surgical unit, but they hadn’t had useful information to share. So she’d taken her concerns to the charge nurse. Veronica “Iron Nurse” Mills had promised to look into the matter. That was when the mishaps started. Audrey could only conclude that the thief was attempting to discredit her.
The swish of a door interrupted their exchange, and in walked the taskmaster who ruled the department with an iron fist. Veronica was tall for a woman and of an indiscriminate age. Her brassy yellow hair was styled in fat sausage rolls reminiscent of a bygone era. She wore her uniforms starched and was never seen without her trademark fire-engine-red lipstick. Since Audrey’s transfer from the ICU to surgery eighteen months ago, she’d gotten the impression that Veronica disliked her more than anyone else. And since she was displeased by most everyone and everything, that was saying something.
Her broad nose pinched at the sight of them. “Heather’s gone home with a fever. You’ll have to spend the rest of your shift in pre-op, Chasity.”
Her friend cast Audrey a sideways glance, then inclined her head. “Of course.”
When the petite blonde had gone, Veronica’s gray gaze swept over the three occupied beds. “I trust you’ll be able to handle yourself?”
The underlying message was clear—no more mess-ups.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She sniffed. “See that you do.”
The next twenty minutes passed in a blur, as one of the female patients roused and promptly vomited. While Audrey was tending to her, the other woman’s vitals started fluctuating, calling for her to investigate the issue. She didn’t like that the hospital was understaffed. Typically, in the recovery area, each nurse was assigned to one patient. But HR had been slow in replacing the employees they’d lost. In recent months, two nurses had moved out of the area, one had quit to be a stay-at-home mom and yet another had accepted a different position in the hospital.
“Please, I need water.” The girl who’d gotten ill was perspiring.
Audrey looked down the aisle at Julian. Because of his history of responding poorly to anesthesia, Chasity had thought it best to place him apart from the others. He appeared to be resting comfortably.
She wouldn’t be gone long. Five minutes, tops. “I’ll get you some ice chips.”
“Thank you.” The patient gave her a weak smile.
In the hallway, an X-ray technician strode past, acknowledging her with a simple nod. David was a new hire. Quiet and introverted. Heather in pre-op had a crush on him. Something about his small, shifty eyes made Audrey think of him as stalker material.
She waited until the hallway was clear before hurrying to the room where they kept sodas and snacks for patients. There were three nurses in line ahead of her. Stifling a sigh, she experienced a rising tide of unease. It won’t happen again. It can’t. Not on my watch.
* * *
Julian was on the helicopter again. He felt it list sharply to the right. Saw the ground racing up to meet them. Heard the other guys’ warning shouts. Smelled the stench of gasoline and blood. Death was all around him, coming to claim him, too.
He jerked awake. Seconds passed before he could make sense of the stark white walls, the metal rails on the bed and the tube attached to his hand. He was in the hospital for an outpatient procedure. He wouldn’t be stuck here for days on end, like last time.
Movement registered in his peripheral vision. He turned his head. A doctor was pulling his privacy curtain closed, creating a small cocoon of blue-tinted shadows. The man didn’t introduce himself. Between the surgical cap and mask, only his eyes and eyebrows were visible. He gazed down at Julian with scalpel-sharp concentration.
“What’s the prognosis, Doc?” Julian said, his mind fuzzy and his stomach doing somersaults. He hated being put under.
There was no response to his question.
The snap and tug of latex grated on Julian’s nerves. Once the white gloves were in place, the doctor produced a syringe and needle and reached for his hand.
Something was wrong. He could feel it.
“What is that?”
Still silent, the man quickly inserted the needle into the port attached with tape to his hand. He injected the substance into the line.
“Where’s my nurse?”
What was her name? He could clearly picture her youthful face, her vivid blue eyes painted with disquiet. She was familiar to him, but he couldn’t pinpoint the connection.
After recapping the needle, the doctor stood and stared at him. Waiting.
Julian glanced around for a call button. There was none.
His heart began to pound. A cloud of pain spread through his chest. His lungs felt full of water. Couldn’t...breathe—
“You drugged me,” he sputtered, his words slurring.
A buzzing sounded in his ears. Black patches distorted his vision.
An alarm close to his bed began to go off. His blood pressure. Too high.
The man reached across and flipped a switch. Silence.
“Help—”
A gloved hand clapped over his mouth, preventing him from calling out.
He pushed at the man’s arm with his uninjured hand. The surgical meds, combined with the mystery drug he’d been given, left him weak. He couldn’t utilize his hand-to-hand combat skills if his body refused to cooperate.
Pray. Seek God’s help.
Dizziness washed over him.
God hadn’t heard him when their helo went down.
He was going to die, after all. Not a hero’s death.
Murdered by a stranger. For what reason?
Sweat poured off him. He thought of his parents and three younger sisters. And his team members’ loved ones, who viewed him as their last link to their fallen marines. And he thought about his nurse, whose name he couldn’t remember. She had compassionate eyes. She would take a patient’s death hard.
He tried again to dislodge the man’s hand.
A distant shout echoed down the room. The stranger ripped through the curtain and bolted for a set of doors.
Julian clawed at the IV tube and yelled for help.
Trying to draw breath into his lungs was an impossible chore, and his heart was spasming.
He had seconds left to live.
TWO
She was going to lose him.
The heart monitor flashed a red warning. Julian was unconscious and his chest wasn’t moving. No air was passing through his lips. The EKG strip showed a lethal rhythm, his heart in sustained V-tach.
Audrey called a code and dropped the bed to its lowest position. The mattress deflated to provide a hard surface. After tilting his head back, she placed her hands in the middle of his chest and began compressions.
Please, Lord Jesus, save him. If he dies, it will be my fault.
She counted in her head. Then, pinching his nose closed, she delivered rescue breaths.
Please, God...think of his family, his friends, his marines.
The code team raced in with the crash cart. She quickly told them about the intruder running free in the hospital, but there wasn’t time to guess what he might’ve done to Julian. Dr. Menendez ran the code, evaluating the patient and clipping out orders. Another nurse unsnapped Julian’s gown and positioned the pads on his chest while Audrey continued compressions. When the defibrillator level was set according to Menendez’s orders, she moved aside and watched the other nurse place the paddles and shock his body.
Her gaze glued to the monitor, she willed his heart to respond.
It didn’t.
She resumed CPR, putting her all into it. “Come on, Sergeant,” she urged. “Fight.”
“My turn,” the nurse told her when Audrey would’ve continued.
Julian’s body received another jolt of electrical current. Time seemed to stretch into eternity as Audrey waited for his rhythm to settle.
Dr. Menendez’s voice cut through her preoccupation, ordering her to administer amiodarone.
She didn’t immediately move. Her attention bounced between Julian’s face and the monitor. Come on. Please—
His heart rate slowed. “Yes, that’s it,” Audrey murmured.
“Harris,” the doctor snapped.
Audrey leaped toward the crash cart and the medications stored there. By the time the team got him stabilized and left, she was shaking. She lingered by his bedside, reassured by his restored color and the rise and fall of his chest.
Chasity walked over, her eyes troubled. Although needed in pre-op, Veronica had ordered she return until Julian left the recovery area. “He’s going to be moved upstairs.”
“I expected as much.”
Because of his cardiac arrest, they would want to keep him under observation for a couple of days. Audrey wouldn’t be able to watch over him. Maybe it was better to keep her distance, anyway. Maybe he’d be safe as long as he stayed far away from her.
She turned, and her sneaker nudged something. She crouched and, peeking beneath the bed, found a syringe. It wasn’t hers. She’d discarded the one she’d used in the sharps container.
“Chasity, get Veronica.”
“What’s wrong?”
Pulling a single glove from the box on the counter, she used it to gingerly pick up the syringe. “Tell her we need the police.” At her friend’s confused look, she said, “Tell her I’ve found evidence the intruder left behind.”
With this in their possession, they could identify the substance he’d injected into Julian and dust for fingerprints that could end this crime spree before anyone else got hurt.
* * *
Julian had had enough of hospitals. He was supposed to have gone in and gotten out in a matter of hours. Because of the incident that had nearly killed him, he’d been forced to stay longer than originally planned. Answers had proven elusive, thanks to tight-lipped administrators. He knew they were closing ranks in case he decided to pursue legal action.