Read Online Rausch & Donlon - Can Be Murder 03 - Writing Can Be Murder by Marilyn Rausch, Mary Donlon - Free Book Online Page B

over and switched on the lamp on his side
of the bed. Propped against his stack of medical journals and publications, he
found her note, written on the back side of the one he had written the previous
evening. It said,

 
    John
    Looks
like your head trauma case just became my case with Frisco. Sorry to screw up
what's left of our Sunday...I will try to be home in time for a late dinner.
    Love,
Jo
    P.
S. And thanks for asking!

 
    Disappointment was replaced with happiness as he read
the last line. He lay back on the bed, and allowed himself a moment to enjoy
the thought of spending the rest of their crazy, busy lives together.
    John realized he hadn’t made the most romantic of proposals
to Jo. There wasn’t a ring – yet – and he hadn’t gotten down on one knee, but
the excitement he had seen in her eyes when she had said yes told him none of
that mattered.
    After years of being a confirmed bachelor at the ripe
old age of thirty-six, he never thought he’d get married. His grandmother had
never given up, though. He made a mental note to call her tonight and pass on
their news. He knew she’d be over the moon, probably pushing next for
great-grandchildren.
    He sighed, and pushed back any more thoughts of his
future with Jo. It was time to follow up on his patient’s progress. Reaching
for his phone, he padded down to the kitchen and started the coffee maker.
Caddy followed behind him, nails clicking on the tile floor. He reached down to
give her a quick, absent-minded ear scratch. While he waited for the coffee to
brew, he dialed the number for the intensive care unit at the hospital.
    When one of the intensive care nurses he worked with
frequently answered, he said, “Hey, Cindy. Looking for an update on Rick
Wilson.”
    He could hear the click of her keyboard as she pulled
up his patient’s file. “Well, Dr. Goodman, all I can say is that you must have
done a hell of a job last night. Can’t believe that kid made it. I just checked
his stats myself. His BP is down to 135, heart rate is at 90, temp is slightly
elevated to 100.1, and respiratory rate is 20.”
    John felt he had been holding his breath as she
rattled off Rick Wilson’s stats. He blew out a puff of air. “And how about the
ICP?”
    “I saved the best for last. The intracranial pressure is down to 14. Way
to go, Doc.”
    The last vestiges of fatigue melted away and he let
out a small whoop. “Now that’s a step in the right direction. I’ll be heading
down soon to check on him. Thanks, Cindy.”
    He poured himself a cup of coffee, humming a few notes
from “The LocoMotion”. He pictured Jo singing on the ladder last night and
couldn’t suppress a grin.
    ***
    After Jo and Frisco left Mazlo’s house, they sat in
the detective’s car. Jo held up the injunction they had received from the
adjunct professor. “This is great, but a copy of the documentary would be more
helpful.”
    The detective nodded. “Agreed. Why don’t I call
Caroline Wilson and see if she knows if Rick was working with another student
on his movie.”
    The detective pulled out his cell phone and dialed.
After a moment, he said, “Mrs. Wilson. This is detective Mike Frisco. Look,
sorry to bother you again, but do you happen to know if Rick was working with
anyone else on his fracking documentary?”
    Jo could hear snatches of the woman’s voice come
through Frisco’s cell phone. “…would be Billy…address. Hang on…”
      Frisco pulled
out his notebook, and scribbled down a name and address. Into the phone, he
said, “Thanks for the info. We’ll be in touch.”
    As soon as he disconnected the call, he handed the
paper to Jo. She pulled up the GPS system in Frisco’s car and punched in the
address for Billy MacGregor.
    Frisco summarized his discussion. “The mother said
Billy and Rick grew up together. He’s not a student at the U, just helping him
out with the project. Probably why Mazlo didn’t know about him.”
    The detective put the car in drive. As