Page 13 of Tough Justice

“See?” Suzie smirked. “Even Wil thinks the guy is hot.”

“I did not say that.” He gave Suzie a pointed look. “I believe I referred to him as a gorilla.”

“So, what was the proposition?” Suzie asked in a hopeful voice.

“Get your head out of the gutter.” Tori gave Suzie’s shoulder an affectionate smack. “He wants me to help with his investigation, specifically to notify him any time an OD comes into the ER so he can interrogate them about who they buy their drugs from. He also wants me to help train their people at a seminar he’s arranging.”

“As long as you can fit it into your schedule, the training shouldn’t be a problem,” Wil said. “But letting him grill patients could violate all kinds of protocol. It’s risky, and you don’t want to get sued. It might be a HIPAA violation.”

“That’s basically what I told him.” Tori nodded emphatically, although she hadn’t even considered the possibility of a lawsuit.

“I’d check with Herrmann before letting him talk to your patients,” Max suggested.

Like her, Dolph Herrmann, the hospital’s primary administrator, was a stickler for protocol. It was doubtful he’d agree to Decker’s request.

“Hypothetically,” Suzie said, “let’s say the hospital did approve. It might be good for you. Training a room full of DEA agents could be fun.” She leaned in to whisper, “Besides, you haven’t had any excitement in your life since Mike left.”

Tori groaned. “Please, don’t go there.” The last thing she needed were reminders of the other ER doctor she dated briefly last year. He’d all but been fired by Herrmann over something she thought was a totally trumped-up issue. In the end, he’d resigned and relocated to the West Coast. While Tori had commiserated with Mike over the circumstances of their parting, it had actually given her the out she’d needed. She’d been on the brink of breaking up with him but hadn’t had the courage to do it yet. Mike was a great guy. His love of extreme sports—including skydiving—not so great.

As an ER doctor, she’d seen firsthand that people’s lives were dangerous enough, and that was without extreme sports. Being with someone who got their yucks living on the edge was something she could never do.

…

Tori dropped her bag on the hallway chest. As always, the house was quiet. Too quiet. Maybe she could get a couple of cats or even a goldfish, something to take care of. What she really wanted was a dog, but that could never fit in with her hectic schedule. She was almost never at home, and it wouldn’t be fair.

She went into the kitchen and poured a glass of Chardonnay, savoring the cool, buttery wine as it trickled down her throat. On the granite counter sat the teardrop terrarium she’d been working on. There’d been a time when her hobbies were more exciting and action-oriented, like hiking, camping, and snowshoeing. Those days were long gone. Now potting plants was about as exciting as things got.

She set down her glass then picked up one of the delicate, green-and-red Tillandsia air plants. Using a tiny spade, she wiggled the white pebbles aside, making a space for the plant. After placing it in the hole, she picked up another plant, this one a small plug of moss. With a sigh, she set the plant back down on the counter.

Normally, she worked on her terrariums every evening. It was a labor of love, with the added benefit of stress relief. Not tonight, however. The grief and desperation she’d witnessed today had torn her guts wide open, and they were still bleeding.

Tyler Wojcik had his whole life ahead of him. Now, he had nothing. No life, and he’d never give or receive a minute of joy ever again. He was just…gone. And for what?

When Tyler’s father had thanked her, she understood he was only expressing his gratitude for helping him and his wife through what had to be the most difficult day of their lives, but at the same time, she’d been flabbergasted. Because she hadn’t done anything to deserve their thanks. But that was the thing—there hadn’t been anything she could have done.

Then.

But what about now?

She picked up her glass, staring at it for a full minute. Tyler’s lifeless face was all she could see. She set the glass down and stared at the other three empty bottles of wine on the counter. For her, alcohol was becoming a way to cope. A bad sign indeed.

She looked around her empty kitchen, empty living room, and equally vacant backyard. Her only companions were the plants in her terrariums. Pathetic. So maybe, just maybe, Suzie was right. For the last five years, she’d been an ER dynamo, but other than short relationships here and there, her life had gone more sterile than an operating room. Shaking things up a little bit might be just what the doctor ordered. But aligning herself with the DEA?

When she’d described Decker’s proposition, she’d completely agreed with Wil’s assessment. It was risky, borderline inappropriate, and she’d be nuts to go along with it. Now, she wasn’t so sure. Half the ambulances pulling into the ER were transporting an OD victim. Heaven forbid she say the words out loud, but helping the DEA would be an opportunity to do something proactive.

Could she really do this?

She shook her head but at the same time was already wondering how in the world she would ever explain it to her father and sister. She couldn’t. It wasn’t remotely possible. If she did this, it would have to be her little secret. Big secret, actually. Gargantuan, even. But she had to do something. Standing on the sidelines wasn’t enough anymore.

Just do it. Make the call.

Pressing her lips together, she strode to the hallway and dug through her bag for the business card she’d tossed in there earlier. She called the number on the card. A deep voice answered.

She opened her mouth, but no words came.

“Hello?” he said again.

Tomorrow, she might very well regret the words she was about to say. Today, they seemed right.