Urgent Care Read Online Free Page B

insisted on shaking hands every time they met—she wasn’t sure if it was a measure of respect or if Glen used the handshake the same way Lydia’s mother had taught her to use it: as a way to get close enough to gauge a person’s real intentions, to get inside their guard. “Rough day all around, isn’t it?”
    “Did the police find anything at the cemetery?”
    “Didn’t look like it. They’re combing the place now, will probably be there for hours.” Glen looked around the ER, his eyes moving back and forth. Cop’s eyes, Lydia recognized. “Is Nora okay? I heard she was the one who found the victim.”
    “She’s fine,” Lydia said, even though she wasn’t sure if that was the truth. She made a mental note to check on Nora as soon as she could. “What about security cameras? Did they show anything?”
    Glen was shaking his head. “The only outside cameras are at the hospital’s main entrance, the ER”—he jerked his chin toward the ambulance bay doors—“the clinics, and the parking garage exits. None of them would have been aimed in the right direction.”
    “Maybe you should think of getting some more,” one of the nurses said.
    “They’ve been in my capital budget for two years, but keep getting the ax. As it is, Tillman and the administration are going to balk about paying for the extra manpower I’ll be asking for.”
    “Even if they approve the money, it will take weeks for you to hire anyone,” Lydia said.
    “Yes’m. I’ll be pulling some overtime myself, hang around down here, keep an eye on things. If anyone feels uncomfortable walking to their car, you make sure they call us. We’ll get them an escort as fast as we can.”
    “I’m sure everyone will appreciate that,” Lydia said, wondering if Glen would make good on his promise. The nurses huffed and walked away. They’d heard it all before.
    “Well, let me go rearrange my men’s schedules. They’re going to love me for this. Especially with everyone wanting time off for the holidays.” He flashed her a salute and sauntered off.
    “What about the Critical Incident Team?” Lydia asked Jason, whose own escape from the emotions the morning had brought seemed to be his video game and iPod. “Did you call them?”
    “Yes. Tommy Z is on call for them today.”
    “Tommy Z?” Great. Lydia and the condescending social worker didn’t get along under the best of circumstances, and these certainly weren’t those. “He’s trained in crisis counseling?”
    Jason grinned, his video game beeping triumphantly. His grin faded as one of the nurses glared at the raucous music. “Don’t worry. The Z-man is cool.”
    Lydia’s previous run-ins with Tommy Zwyczaje had convinced her otherwise, but if he had the training, she had no choice but to let him do his job. Not that she wouldn’t be keeping an eye on him—last thing she needed was a know-it-all social worker messing with her people’s heads.
    “He knows what he’s doing,” Jason added, sensing her skepticism.
    “I wouldn’t count on that,” she muttered.
    “Lydia,” came a voice smooth as whiskey from behind her. “So good to work with you again.”
    Lydia didn’t flinch, even though she hated anyone sneaking up on her. Instead she slowly swiveled in her chair. She was the one caught badmouthing the man, but Tommy Z was the one who appeared to be blushing as he held a hand out for her as if a peace offering. He had dark, wavy hair and rugged Eastern European good looks, though marred by a bad case of rosacea. His wide mouth was stretched into the “aw shucks” grin of a snake oil salesman.
    “Have you run a critical-incident debriefing before?” Lydia cut to the chase, ignoring his hand.
    “Too many, I’m afraid. I’m on the countywide team, have worked incidents at all the major hospitals and a few in the field, like the Ebenezer Church fire where those firefighters died.” He glanced around, then drew closer to her. “What can you tell me about what