Background check
“What hospital did he go to? Who was the doctor?” If the only three people that knew were me, Murphy, and Evans, and none of us have said anything, then one of the medical professionals must have blabbed. So much for doctor-patient confidentiality. If it was one of the medical staff, then someone is going to lose their job over this.
Evan’s eyes widen as he realizes what I’m asking. “I don’t remember off the top of my head—it was such a dark time--but I’ll ask Murphy about it right now.”
He pulls out his phone. I can only hope that we get answers before the paparazzi go searching for any more scandalous details about our lives. I don’t think I can take much more of this.
* * *
An hour later, I’m driving to the hospital. Murphy told Evans he was treated at my hospital. The one I’ve been working at since graduation. What are the chances of that? I even know the doctor who treated him: Dr.Edward I worked with him during a night shift I was shadowing in the ER. Dr. I’m kind of surprised he would do something like this. As a new nurse, he was never rude to me. In fact, he was patient and kind, and always there to lend a helping hand or an ear. I’m pretty sure he kept tissues in his office for really stressful days.
I really hope it wasn’t him. Maybe Murphy was on too much pain medicine afterward the incident and somehow got his memory confused. I know being in that kind of pain can be traumatic. He could be latching onto the first person he saw when he woke up, and blaming them for blabbing to the press. It’s possible Murphy did the blabbing himself if he’d had a lot of morphine. Who knows who could have been listening at the door? There are so many unanswered questions running through my mind.
I’m praying Dr.Edward remembers me—it will make things so much easier. I want to do everything I can to help Evans, even if I’m still furious with him for being so mean to me. I know he’s stressed out, but that’s no way to treat your future wife. I have to get Evans to trust me. It makes my heart hurt thinking that he’s been doubting me this entire day. If anything, I should be someone that Evans can go to when he needs help. In fact, I should be the first person he goes to when he’s in trouble.
Evans told me the night he shot Murphy he was in a dark, dark place. For a moment, I wonder: could he ever go back to that place? I find it hard to believe, thinking of the Evans that I fell in love with, the Evans that is an amazing father to Alfred. I’ve never felt unsafe around him. He can be intimidating at times, but I know I can trust him.
There’s no time for these thoughts. I park in the hospital parking lot and go up the elevator and into triage. I can still be on the floor because I have my old ID. It must be my lucky day—Dr. Edward is walking by the nurses’ station.
“Dr. Edward,” I call.
He stops and looks at me. When he realizes who I am, his whole face lights up and he beams.
“ Ciara How have you been?” he asks, giving me a hug. I quickly decide how I need to play this situation. I’m going to be the nice, nonthreatening coworker to draw him in. You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar, and I need to get this problem solved tonight.
Dr. Edward is staring at me expectantly, waiting for me to answer. “Very good,” I laugh. “I had a baby.”
“Really?” Dr. Edward asks. “That’s amazing. You were such a diligent, caring nurse. Your unit must miss you.” Is he just buttering me up, or does he really mean that? Does he know I’m seeing Evans? He doesn’t seem like someone that reads the tabloids.
“Aww that’s so sweet. I’ll be back eventually.” I give him a smile, trying to decide how to transition to Murphy.
“Why did you come to see an old medical antique like me?” Dr.Edward asks and then chuckles heartily. Should I pretend I have a fake medical question or get straight to the point?
You’re in the ER Ciara, he doesn’t have time for a long chit chat.
I decide to go for the direct route. “I wanted to ask you about a patient. About four years ago you treated Murphy Leonard for a gunshot wound.” I try to stay casual, so I lean against the counter of the nurse’s station.
All of the color drains out of Dr. Edward’s face. Then he shakes his head quickly and pastes a tight smile. “Sorry Ciara. You must be mistaken. I’ve never heard of Murphy Leonard.”