Juanita grabbed a handful of samples, then stared at her. “What’re you up to, Patterson?”
“I need to stay,” she admitted. “Make sure the cops do their job. But I don’t want to put my position in Baltimore at risk, so I’m working the only option available to me.”
Juanita shoved the drawer shut. “And you want me to help you?”
“Actually,” CJ said, following her back down the corridor, “I would be helping you. I can work the same day as you, so the clinic can see twice as many patients, or I can work a different day. Give you a day off. I would be helping you and the village residents.”
Juanita breezed into the exam room, gave the patient’s mother the samples. “Bring her back in two weeks if she isn’t greatly improved.”
The mother thanked her over and over as she ushered her little girl out of the room.
Juanita placed the patient’s chart on the growing stack on the table in the corridor. “I’ve a good mind to say no,” she warned, her gaze narrow with suspicion. “But I could use the help. There’s not enough time in the day to see everyone who needs medical attention. And I could get my preceptor to rush the paperwork through ...ifI was convinced of your sincerity.”
CJ knew where this was going. “This isn’t about the past, Juanita. This is about doing the right thing. I have to see this through. You don’t have to worry about me stepping on your toes. You’ll be the one in charge. I have no desire to try usurping your authority.”
The stare-off lasted another ten or twelve seconds. “You’re on.” She allowed CJ to see in her eyes just how serious she was. “But you screw with me and you’re out. Do we understand each other?”
“Absolutely.”
Juanita grabbed the chart at the next exam room. “In fact, you can start right now. You’ll find what you need in my office.” She pushed her lips into a fake smile. “One good deed deserves another, right?” She entered the exam room. “Good morning, Mr. Rodriguez. What seems to be the problem?”
CJ located the office, left her bag, and donned a stethoscope. Getting on Juanita’s good side wasn’t a bad idea. Who knew? Maybe the woman would remember something Shelley had said that would make a difference.
Meanwhile, CJ would be doing what she loved most: taking care of people.
5:30 p.m.
CJ dropped the final chart on the mountain of others.
The last patient was out the door.
She stretched her back, rotated her neck.
“This is what I do every day,” Juanita said as she placed her final chart on top of CJ’s. “Not that different from what you do.”
The hint of a smile tilted one corner of CJ’s mouth. Maybe they would get along after all. “Just a little less blood.” Images from Saturday night ... the kid ... invaded her thoughts. A lot less blood.
Juanita glanced at the mountain of charts. “Thanks, Patterson.” She gestured to the pile. “I’ll be here for a while.”
“About the village clinic—”
“Tomorrow too soon for you?” Juanita grabbed an armful of charts. “Wednesdays would be a good day off for me. I’ll make sure the paperwork gets done ASAP.”
“Tomorrow’s great.” The sooner the better for CJ’s purposes.
Juanita jerked her head toward her office. “I’ll give you my keys. I’ll get duplicates made by Friday.”
Anticipation chased away CJ’s exhaustion. “That works.”
The keys were on a chain with several others. Juanita unhooked and handed three to CJ, stating which door each unlocked as she did.
“I’ve annotated as many of the charts as possible as to the patients who shouldn’t be given barbiturates, opiate derivatives, stuff like that.” She gave CJ a knowing look. “You’re new; they’ll try to play on your sympathy.”
“I’ll stick with your notes.” CJ backed toward the double doors. “Just so you know, Baltimore hasn’t made me soft. I’m tougher than you think.”
“Go on. I’ll lock the door after you’re gone.” Juanita shook her head and shuffled into her office.
The receptionist had left already. The waiting room looked like a tornado had come through. The few magazines provided for the patients’ entertainment were scattered about, along with coffee cups, soda cans, and various other discarded food wrappers and containers.
