In Death 32 - Treachery in Death

Louise, and to take her. Her life’s on the line. I need you to report as her doctor, and I need you to fix her. I don’t want anyone near her you don’t know and trust with your life. Not another doctor, nurse, orderly, not a bedpan near her you don’t trust. Baxter and Trueheart are on their way there now. No other cops get near her without my clearance. None.”
    “I’m on my way. I’ll call ahead, set it up.”
    “Thanks.”
    She sprinted from floor to glide, from glide to elevator, and across the garage where Roarke waited.
    “How fast can you get us to Angel’s Hospital?”
    “Very. Strap in.”

21
    SIRENS BLASTING, ROARKE WENT AIRBORNE the instant they shot out of the garage. He touched down, punched it to plow through a field of traffic, two-wheeled it at the corner. He skimmed by a couple coats of paint between a cab and a sedate town car, then tore into a hard-line vertical to rocket over the heads of pedestrians clipping across the crosswalk in spite of the screaming sirens and flashing lights.
    “Strong’s down,” Eve told him. “I don’t know how bad.”
    He simply nodded and ripped a line through the city canyons. When he swerved onto the ER ramp, he said, “Go.”
    She was already slapping the release on her safety harness, shoving open the door. She slammed through the ER doors, caught sight of the medicals whisking a gurney around the corner of Admitting with Baxter and Trueheart flanking them like guard dogs.
    “Status! What’s her status?”
    Blood from the head wounds, the face lacerations soaked Lilah’s clothes. Eve saw the splint support on her right arm, another caging her leg, the brace collaring her neck.
    The MTs were spewing out a string of medical terms to a man in scrubs who barely looked old enough to order a brew. He in turn reeled out orders as they shoved the gurney through another set of doors.
    He shot another order at Eve. “You have to stay back.”
    “Her doctor’s on the way. Louise Dimatto. She’s in charge.”
    “Right now I’m in charge.” He counted off to three, and they lifted Lilah’s bloody, broken body, strapped to a stabilizer, from gurney to table.
    At the movement, Lilah moaned. Her eyelids flickered. The doctor peeled an eyelid up to examine her pupil while another medical cut away her pants to reveal a nasty break beneath the splint cage.
    Eve managed to slip through, grab and grip Lilah’s hand as the team worked around her. “Report, Detective. Give me a report.”
    Lilah’s eyes, blind with shock and pain, rolled open. “What?”
    “Detective Strong!” Eve watched the eyes widen, very slightly. “I need your report.”
    “Killed me.”
    “No, they didn’t. Why did they try?”
    “Oberman. Behind Oberman.” The words garbled as Lilah’s fingers moved weakly in Eve’s. “My mother. Tic.”
    “I’ll get your mother. I’ll get Tic.”
    “Scared.”
    Fresh pain jerked her body, shuddered in her eyes. Eve made herself stare straight into them. “I’ve got you covered. I’ve got you, Detective.”
    “Oberman.” Eve could feel Lilah fight for the words. “Safe. Bix. Blew it.”
    “No, you didn’t. I’ve got it.”
    “Mom. Tic.”
    “I’ll get them.”
    Eve leaned in as Lilah’s eyes rolled closed again, as machines beeped, as the young doctor snapped at her to back off, threatened to call Security.
    “You don’t die on me, Detective. That’s a goddamn order.”
    Behind her Eve heard Louise’s voice—calm, brisk, full of authority. She stepped back, watched her friend shove her arms into a protective cloak.
    “Trueheart, stay with her. Baxter, with me.”
    Eve shoved through the doors. “Did she say anything else before I got here?” Eve demanded.
    “You were about thirty seconds behind us. She came around for a few seconds when they were off-loading her, but she didn’t say anything I could make out.”
    “One or both of you sticks with her, all the way. Nobody gets to her. Nobody touches her unless Louise clears them.”
    “Did somebody help her fall down that glide, Dallas?”
    “Undetermined, but probable. If there was reason for that, there’s reason to go at her again.”
    “They won’t get through us.” His gaze ticked to the door, back to Eve. “She’s one of Oberman’s?”
    “Not anymore. She’s one of mine.”
    Louise pushed out while Eve paced the hallway.
    “We’re taking her up, prepping her for surgery. She needs an orthopedic surgeon, a plastic man, a neuro. They have