Rizzoli & Isles 8-Book Set

laughs.”
    He got right down to business, his hands working in concert with hers as they tore into the chest with almost brutal force. He and Catherine had operated as a team so many times before, each automatically knew what the other one needed and could anticipate moves ahead of time.
    “Story on this?” asked Peter. Blood spurted, and he calmly snapped a hemostat over the bleeder.
    “Construction worker. Tripped and fell on the site and got himself skewered.”
    “That’ll ruin your day. Burford retractor, please.”
    “Burford.”
    “How we doing on blood?”
    “Waiting on the O neg,” a nurse answered.
    “Is Dr. Murata in-house?”
    “His bypass team’s on its way in.”
    “So we just need to buy a little time here. What’s our rhythm?”
    “Sinus tach, one-fifty. A few PVC’s—”
    “Systolic’s down to fifty!”
    Catherine shot a glance at Peter. “We’re not going to make it to bypass,” she said.
    “Then let’s just see what we can do here.”
    There was sudden silence as he stared into the incision.
    “Oh god,” said Catherine. “It’s in the atrium.”
    The tip of the rod had pierced the wall of the heart, and with every beat fresh blood squirted out around the edge of the puncture site. A deep pool of it had already collected in the thoracic cavity.
    “We pull it out, we’re going to have a real gusher,” said Peter.
    “He’s already bleeding out around it.”
    The nurse said, “Systolic’s barely palpable!”
    “Ho-kay,” said Peter. No panic in his voice. No sign of any fear whatsoever. He said to one of the nurses, “Can you hunt me down a sixteen French Foley catheter with a thirty cc balloon?”
    “Uh, Dr. Falco? Did you say a
Foley
?”
    “Yep. A urinary catheter.”
    “And we’ll need a syringe with ten cc’s of saline,” said Catherine. “Stand by to push it.” She and Peter didn’t have to explain a thing to each other; they both understood what the plan was.
    The Foley catheter, a tube designed for insertion into a bladder to drain urine, was handed to Peter. They were about to put it to a use for which it was never intended.
    He looked at Catherine. “You ready?”
    “Let’s do it.”
    Her pulse was throbbing as she watched Peter grasp the iron rod. Saw him gently pull it out of the heart wall. As it emerged, blood exploded from the puncture site. Instantly Catherine thrust the tip of the urinary catheter into the hole.
    “Inflate the balloon!” said Peter.
    The nurse pressed down the syringe, injecting ten cc’s of saline into the balloon at the tip of the Foley.
    Peter pulled back on the catheter, jamming the balloon against the inside of the atrium wall. The gush of blood cut off. Barely a trickle oozed out.
    “Vitals?” called out Catherine.
    “Systolic’s still at fifty. The O neg’s here. We’re hanging it now.”
    Heart still pounding, Catherine looked at Peter and saw him wink at her through his protective goggles.
    “Wasn’t that fun?” he said. He reached for the clamp with the cardiac needle. “You want to do the honors?”
    “You bet.”
    He handed her the needle holder. She would sew together the edges of the puncture, then pull out the Foley before she closed off the hole entirely. With every deep stitch she took, she felt Peter’s approving gaze. Felt her face flush with the glow of success. Already she felt it in her bones: This patient would live.
    “Great way to start the day, isn’t it?” he said. “Ripping open chests.”
    “This is one birthday I’ll never forget.”
    “My offer’s still on for tonight. How about it?”
    “I’m on call.”
    “I’ll get Ames to cover for you. C’mon. Dinner and dancing.”
    “I thought the offer was for a ride in your plane.”
    “Whatever you want. Hell, let’s do peanut butter sandwiches. I’ll bring the Skippy.”
    “Ha! I always knew you were a big spender.”
    “Catherine, I’m serious.”
    Hearing the change in his voice, she looked up and met his steady gaze. Suddenly she noticed that the room had hushed and that everyone else was listening, waiting to find out if the unattainable Dr. Cordell would finally succumb to Dr. Falco’s charms.
    She took another stitch as she thought about how much she liked Peter as a colleague, how much she respected him and he respected her. She didn’t want that to change. She didn’t want to endanger that precious relationship with an ill-fated step toward intimacy.
    But oh, how she missed the days when she could