Lightning Strikes Part 2. Mary Baxter Lynn
his brow, Liz,” Amanda said to the nurse.
Liz Roberts did as she was told, then Noah swung himself away from the stretcher.
“Is she going to make it?” Dr. Sloane asked, her gaze jockeying back and forth between Noah and Amanda.
“Let us pray,” Amanda said, her eyes on Olivia. “This is a severe heart attack.”
It was in that moment that she saw the mayor’s lips trying to move. Noah was aware of it, too, she realized, because he bent over Olivia at the same time she did.
In fact, Noah was so close now, Amanda could smell the erotic mixture of sweat and cologne. Mentally, she berated herself for noticing.
He’s your past, not your future.
“She’s moving her lips,” Noah said urgently. “She’s trying to say something.”
Amanda pushed her hair back and leaned even closer. “What is it, Olivia?”
Seconds passed and there was no response. Amanda’s hopes that the mayor would actually speak were dashed. Then Olivia opened her lips again along with her eyes.
Amanda heard Noah’s breathing quicken. “Olivia, what is it? Please, tell us.”
Olivia’s mouth opened and closed while she gasped for breath. “Coal,” she finally whispered.
“What—” Further words dried up in Amanda’s throat as Olivia’s eyes rolled back and her head slumped to the side.
All other eyes darted once again to the monitor. A straight line stared back at them.
“She’s gone,” Noah said in a tight, emotionless voice. He then looked at the clock and added, “Time of death, 9:31 p.m.”
Silence filled the room as the team stepped back and pulled off their masks and gloves.
“Did she say what I think she said?” Liz Roberts asked, the first to speak.
“‘Coal’ is what I understood,” Amanda said, fighting the angry, helpless feeling that always followed the loss of a patient.
“Same here,” Noah added.
Amanda felt his eyes on her, but she refused to acknowledge him. She just wanted to be alone to come to grips with this latest turn of events.
“Do you think she was talking about the strip-mining fight she was involved in?” Dr. Sloane asked.
“Beats me,” Noah said.
Amanda rubbed the back of her neck. “That’s certainly possible. It was no secret how she despised what was happening to our surrounding beauty and how she fought both the unions and the mining companies. She gave them hell.”
And hooray for her, Amanda thought. She, too, despised what strip-mining had done to the area. The smell and presence of sulphuric acid polluted the mountain streams. Land that was once rich and full was now brown, barren and ugly.
Yet she found it hard to believe that strip-mining would be on Olivia’s mind as she lay dying. Amanda spoke that thought out loud, but no one had an answer.
“Cause of death?” Amanda asked into the building silence, forcing herself to look at Noah.
“Heart attack.”
“I’ll notify her family.” Amanda walked to the huge swinging doors and was about to push them open when she felt Noah’s presence.
“Want me to do that?”
“No. But thanks, anyway.”
“Amanda—”
“Not now, Noah.” Not ever, she wanted to add, but didn’t. How was she going to do her job now that he was back?
“I want to help.”
She stopped and turned around. “You’ve already done all you can.”
“But—”
“I’m going to my office,” she said, cutting him off.
He would’ve argued if she’d given him the chance, but she hadn’t. She headed down the hall and didn’t stop until she reached her domain.
Once seated, her eyes went to her phone. For a second it seemed to taunt her. God, she hated to make this call, but that was part of her job.
Doctors couldn’t save everyone, no matter how hard they tried.
Chapter Ten
Annie Moore curled into a fetal position on the couch. She didn’t want to listen to her boyfriend holler at her, but what choice did she have? None.
“Please,” she said, peering up at him out of green eyes that at one time would’ve been considered beautiful, but not now. They were dull and sunk too far back in her head. “I’m tired. I wanna go to sleep.”
“And I want you to get rid of that kid.”
“It’s your kid, too,” Annie lashed back.
Todd Stover laughed an ugly laugh. “Can you prove it?”
“I don’t have to.” Annie sat up, feeling the baby move inside her. “Anyway, you know it’s yours.”
“Yeah, I guess I do at that. First virgin I ever had.”
Annie’s face turned red, then she glared at Todd, wondering how she ever got hooked up with him. He wasn’t handsome, not in the least. He had a long, thin face that was covered in a beard and mustache, making it seem overcrowded. His body was the same—long and thin. Gaunt, actually, but that was because instead of eating he spent his money on drugs.
Thank goodness he’d been unable to talk her into joining him. Hell, even at sixteen, she was smart enough to know that would get her nowhere. But she’d been with Todd since she’d sneaked out of the orphanage and run away.
He’d picked her up at a hangout one evening after she’d had a few drinks. They had been together ever since, shacking in first one hovel, then the next. Todd had never held a steady job. She didn’t suspect he ever would. He felt the world owed him something—what, she had never figured out. When she asked him, he couldn’t tell her, either, except that it was the government’s responsibility to take care of people like him.
“I’m hungry,” Annie said at last, refocusing her thoughts, eyeing the jar of peanut butter and crackers on the rickety table and feeling her stomach revolt. God, she’d like some chicken nuggets from McDonald’s. But she knew better than to mention that. There was no money for such a luxury. Anyway, Todd would just laugh and maybe even hit her. He’d been prone to that lately, the closer she came to having the baby.
“Whatcha see is whatcha get,” Todd said, a scowl deepening the lines on his face, lines that would be more suitable on someone who was forty-one rather than twenty-one.
He reached for a cigarette. After lighting it, he held one out to her. Annie shook her head, flinching as another round of lightning and thunder actually shook the old apartment building they were in.
“Come on,” Todd coaxed. “It’ll do you good.”
“It’s not good for the baby.” The minute she said that, Annie wished she could take back the words.
“Who the hell cares?” He inhaled deeply, then slowly blew out the smoke. “It’s just a matter of time till that kid’s history, anyhow.”
Annie straightened and pushed one side of her long, stringy hair behind her ears. “I told you—”
Todd lifted his hand. She cringed back against the smelly, tattered sofa, just missing the blow. But she wasn’t about to get off so easily. He leaned over and grabbed a handful of her hair.
“Ouch!”