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Mom looks up. “Yes?”
“Your husband’s in recovery. The doctor wants to speak with you. May I send him in here?”
“Yes, yes. Of course. This is my son, Donny.”
I stand and shake the nurse’s hand.
She smiles. “I’m sure your mother is glad you’re here. I’ll get the doctor.”
A minute later, a gray-haired man enters. “Mrs. Steel, I’m Dr. Lodge. Your husband did well.”
A heavy sigh of relief whooshes out of Mom. “Then he’s okay?”
“Yes. He should make a full recovery, but what happened is quite…concerning.”
“Did you figure out what was making him so sick?”
Dr. Lodge clears his throat. “We did, and it has nothing to do with an infection or with his previous injury and surgery.”
“Then what happened?” I ask.
Dr. Lodge blows out a breath of air. “We’d just opened him up when the toxicology report came in.”
“Toxicology?”
“Yes, from the blood that was drawn last night,” he continues. “The lab doesn’t normally interrupt surgery, but they made an exception in this case. A good call on their part.”
Mom’s swollen eyes widen.
“What did you find?” I ask.
“There’s a reason the antibiotics we administered weren’t working,” Dr. Lodge says. “It’s because your husband didn’t have an infection.”
“What was causing the symptoms then?” I ask.
“Toxicology showed atropine poisoning,” Dr. Lodge says.
“What’s atropine?”
“Technically it’s a tropane alkaloid. It’s used to treat heart rhythm problems, stomach or bowel problems, and certain types of poisoning when injected. It can mimic septicemia, which is what it did here. If I’d known to look, I might have noticed your husband’s dilated pupils, but his eyes are so dark anyway…”
Anger rushes through me. Poison? My father was poisoned? “How did he get atropine?” I demand.
“We don’t know. It’s not in his chart, and it’s contraindicated in his case. It’s usually administered by injection, but in your father’s case, we pumped his stomach as a prophylactic measure. I’m glad we did, because it helped, and we got him stabilized. He’ll have dilated pupils for a few days, but other than that, his symptoms have abated.”
Mom freezes.
“Mrs. Steel,” the doctor says, “I assure you that we’re going to investigate this. It was in his stomach, which means he ingested it orally.”
“Someone laced his food or drink,” I say, thinking out loud, my voice dark and harsh.
Mom is still frozen. I want to help her, but right now, I need to know all the information this doctor has.
Whoever tried to shoot my father clearly came back to try to finish the job.
Except…
If that’s the case, then Uncle Joe’s theory is wrong. Someone wants my father dead, and this was no mistake.
Or someone wants both of them dead.
“What the goddamned fuck?” I rake my fingers through my hair.
That spurs Mom out of her somberness. “Donny…”
“Sorry, Mom, but for Christ’s sake. What the hell kind of hospital is this?”
“Mr. Steel,” the doctor says, “I assure you we’re—”
“Looking into it. Right. I know. But you know what? It’s not your father lying there in recovery with two surgeries behind him. It’s not your father who was poisoned in this damned hospital. It’s not your—”
“Donny, please.” Mom stands, finally. The fire is back in her blue eyes. “Dr. Lodge, this is unacceptable. I’d like to see my husband now, please.”
“He’s still under anesthesia. The nurse will come get you when he wakes up.”
“I’d like to see him now,” Mom says again.
“Mrs.—”
I can’t help myself. I go all Dale. All Uncle Joe. All rogue. I grab the doctor by the neck of his blue scrubs. “You will take my mother to see my father now, or by God, I’ll—”
“Don!”
The voice jolts me. One of only two voices in the world that have that effect on me.
Dale stands in the doorway of the hospital room—flanked by Diana and Aunt Mel—seeming to dwarf everything else. “What the hell are you doing?”
I loosen my grip on the doctor, and Mom slinks back into her recliner.
The doctor steps back. “You’re crazy.”
“I assure you my brother’s not crazy,” Dale says. “But he does want answers, and so do I.”
“I wish I had some. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have other patients to attend to.” He leaves quickly, rubbing his neck.
“Nice work,” Dale says. “You chased away Dad’s doctor. Man, I looked at you, and for a minute I thought I was looking in a mirror.”
His comment isn’t lost on me.
A nurse comes in a moment later. “Mrs. Steel, I’ll take you to see your husband now.”
I help Mom out of the recliner. “You want one of us to come with you?”
“I’m sorry,” the nurse says, “but since Mr. Steel hasn’t awakened yet, I can only allow Mrs. Steel in recovery.”
“Good enough,” I say, “and thank you.”
Dale grabs my shoulder. Not gently. “Bro, we need to talk.”
“About what?”
“Not here.”
“You mean not in front of me,” Diana says.
“Yeah, that’s what I mean,” Dale says, “but it’s not for the reason you think.”
