The Blue Nowhere

Sanchez. She, Bob Shelton and Tony Mott were in the unmarked car right behind Bishop’s—because he’d been in such a hurry to get to his wife he’d left CCU without waiting for the rest of the team. Patricia Nolan and Stephen Miller were in a third car.
    He continued breathlessly to the front door and raced inside.
    In the main reception area he sped past a dozen waiting patients. At the sign-in desk, three nurses were huddled around the receptionist, staring at a computer screen. No one looked at him right away. Something was wrong. They were all frowning, taking turns at the keyboard.
    “Excuse me, this is police business,” he said, flashing his shield. “I need to know which room Jennie Bishop is in.”
    A nurse looked up. “Sorry, Officer. The system’s haywire. We don’t know what’s going on but there’s no patient information available.”
    “I have to find her. Now.”
    The nurse saw the agonized look on his face and walked over to him. “Is she an in-patient?”
    “What?”
    “Is she staying overnight?”
    “No. She’s just having some tests. For an hour or two. She’s Dr. Williston’s patient.”
    “Oncology outpatient.” The nurse understood. “Okay, that’d be the third floor, west wing. That way.” She pointed and started to say something else but Bishop was already sprinting down the hall. A flash of white beside him. He glanced down. His shirt was completely untucked. He shoved it back into his slacks, never breaking stride.
    Up the stairs, through a corridor that seemed to be a mile long, to the west wing.
    At the end of the hallway he found a nurse and she directed him to a room. The young blonde had an alarmed expression on her face but whether that was because of something she knew about Jennie or because of his concerned expression, Bishop didn’t know.
    He ran down the hall and burst through the doorway, nearly knocking into a young security guard sitting beside the bed. The man stood up fast, reaching for his pistol.
    “Honey!” Jennie cried.
    “It’s okay,” Bishop said to the guard. “I’m her husband.”
    His wife was crying softly. He ran to her and enfolded her in his arms.
    “A nurse gave me a shot,” she whispered. “The doctor didn’t order it. They don’t know what it is. What’s going on, Frank?”
    He glanced at the security guard, whose name badge read “R. Hellman.” The man said, “Happened before I got here, sir. They’re looking for that nurse now.”
    Bishop was thankful the guard was here at all. The detective had had a terrible time getting through to the hospital security staff to have someone sent to Jennie’s room. Phate had crashed the hospital phone switch and the transmissions on the radio had been so staticky he hadn’t even been sure what the person on the other end of the radio was saying. But apparently the message had been received after all. Bishop was further pleased that the guard—unlike most of the others he’d seen at the hospital—was wearing a sidearm.
    “What is it, Frank?” Jennie repeated.
    “That fellow we’re after? He found out you were in the hospital. We think he might be here someplace.”
    Linda Sanchez jogged into the room fast. The guard looked at her police ID, dangling from a chain around her neck, and motioned her in. The women knew each other but Jennie was too upset to nod a greeting.
    “Frank, what about the baby?” She was sobbing now. “What if he gave me something that hurts the baby?”
    “What’d the doctor say?”
    “He doesn’t know!”
    “It’s going to be all right, honey. You’ll be okay.”
    Bishop told Linda Sanchez what happened and the stocky woman sat on Jennie’s bed. She took the patient’s hand, leaned forward and said in a friendly but firm voice, “Look at me, honey. Look at me. . . .” When Jennie did, Sanchez said, “Now, we’re in a hospital, right?”
    Jennie nodded.
    “So if anybody did anything he shouldn’t’ve they can fix you up just fine in no time.” The officer’s dark, stubby fingers rubbed Jennie’s arms vigorously as if the woman had just come inside from a freezing rainstorm. “There’re more doctors per square inch here than anywhere in the Valley. Right? Look at me. Am I right?”
    Jennie wiped her eyes and nodded. She seemed to relax a bit.
    Bishop did too, glad to partake in this reassurance. But that bit of relief sat right beside another thought: that if his wife or the baby were harmed in any way neither Shawn nor