Code of Ethics Read online

  Things should be relatively slow at the moment down here. Hopefully. Then again, it wasn’t like she came to the morgue on a regular basis.

  Hospital security officer Brad Channing saw her coming. “Evening, Dr. St. John. What brings you down here?” He swept a hand toward the gurney. “Other than the obvious.”

  “That’s about it. I didn’t feel like waiting on someone to transport him, so I thought I’d do it myself.”

  “I can take it from here if you like.” He stepped forward to take her place.

  “Ah . . . no, that’s all right. If you’ll just get the door, I’ll roll him in. I’ve . . . um . . . got some paperwork I need to fill out before I’m finished.”

  She tensed, hoping he wouldn’t insist. When he simply shrugged and opened the door for her, she exhaled a slow breath of relief. “Thanks, Brad.”

  “Any time.”

  And then they were alone.

  Where was Christy? The morgue technician was usually on duty for second shift, but right now the place echoed emptiness, which worked great for her purposes. Moving quickly, she unlocked one of the cabinets and found bandages, tape, and items she would need for stitching. Once she had everything signed out according to protocol, she stuffed the items into the bag she’d packed in his room and set it aside.

  “What are you doing?”

  Ruthie spun to find her “dead” patient sitting up and pressing a hand to his wound under the sling. His pale features belied his “I’m fine” attitude. “Gathering a few more supplies you’re going to need. You better lie down and pull that sheet back up before someone walks in here and realizes you’re not dead.”

  “What’s the plan?”

  “To get you out of here. Then figure out how to keep you alive long enough for you to heal.”

  “Good plan.”

  “Thanks.”

  “But I’ll have to take it from here. If you get involved further, you could get hurt,” he warned.

  “Well, if you don’t let me get involved, you could die.”

  He raised a brow. “A slight exaggeration.”

  “Maybe. In the medical sense. But I think you need someone looking out for you. Someone who has your back.”

  His jaw tightened. “I’ve gotten pretty good at watching my own back.”

  “Right. That’s why you have a bullet hole in you. The truth is, you won’t get far on your own. If they’re willing to go this far to kill you, they probably have people at every exit watching for you.”

  He stilled. “You think like a cop.”

  “It’s second nature.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “It’s not important.” She walked to another cabinet and pulled an item off the top shelf. “Right now, our priority is getting you somewhere safe.”

  “What did you have in mind?”

  “Can you stand up?”

  “Of course.”

  He managed, but even she could tell the effort it cost him and moved fast, laying the bag on the gurney. She unzipped it.

  “A body bag,” he said.

  “Yes. Now get in.”

  Isaac swallowed. He wasn’t superstitious or even terribly claustrophobic, but the thought of being zipped up in that black bag turned his stomach. He’d seen too many bodies carted off in those things. Instead of airing his fears, he settled himself on top of it, and she wrapped it around him.

  The rasp of the zipper sent chills along his nerve endings. She stopped when she got mid-chest. “I won’t zip it all the way if you prefer. I can leave you a finger hole at the top. You’ll be able to get out if you need to.”

  “Thanks.” He didn’t recognize the huskiness in his voice. Fatigue and nausea had taken over, and he wondered if he might pass out. At least if he was unconscious, he wouldn’t be worried about being zipped up like a dead man. The fact that she’d picked up on his internal angst surprised him. He thought he was better at hiding his emotions. Then again, he’d been shot, had surgery, had almost been killed in his room, and was running from those who wanted him dead. A little noticeable angst was probably normal.

  The zipper continued its journey up over his face and then stopped at the top of his head. True to her word, a sliver of light filtered through the small hole she left. Knowing he could get out without a massive struggle allowed him to breathe a little easier.

  “All right, here we go,” she said. “Should be a piece of cake from this point on.”

  The gurney rolled. The whoosh of the doors and the rise in temperature told him he was now outside the hospital.

  “Hey, doc, hold up a second.”

  The gurney stopped. His heart rate kicked it up a notch at the voice. Cole Guthrie, Isaac’s partner—the man who’d made his life miserable for the past three months. Cole had made it clear he thought Isaac was betraying the badge and the men and women behind it by pushing to find a fellow cop guilty of something he couldn’t prove. The conversation hadn’t gone well.

  “Let it go, Isaac,” Cole had said. “He put the money back.”

  “He did. This time. But I feel certain that wasn’t the first time he’s taken some, and if I don’t do something about it, it won’t be the last.”

  “What are you two doing back here?” Ruthie asked, jolting Isaac back to the present. “This is a restricted area.”

  “Well, we’re cops. We’re pretty free to come and go where we please. I’m Detective Cole Guthrie and this is Detective Paul Sullivan.”

  “I see. Nice to meet you guys, but I’m sort of in the middle of something here. What can I do for you? And while you’re talking, could you open the back of that ambulance?”

  Isaac heard the sound of footsteps, then the door opening. “Kind of odd for a doctor to be moving a body all by herself, isn’t it?”

  Ruthie went still. He couldn’t see her, but he felt her. Heard the hitch in her breath. “Odd? No, not so odd when the person was someone I cared very much about. So much so that I volunteered to oversee the transfer personally. Why is everyone so surprised that I’m willing to help out?” She sounded truly baffled, and Isaac began to think she might just pull this off.

  But he’d give anything to have his fingers curled around a weapon right now.

  “Where’s the driver?” Paul Sullivan asked. Isaac liked him about as much as he did Cole.

  A huff left the doc’s lips and Isaac almost smiled. “Gentlemen, what’s this all about?” she asked. “I’ve got things to do after I get this man to the crematorium. If you’d like to give me an escort, I’ll take it. And the driver is in the cafeteria, grabbing a snack. He should be back shortly. But while you’re here, you want to help me get him inside?”

  “Ah . . . yeah. Sure.”

  And then he was moving again.

  Finally, Ruthie seemed satisfied that he was settled. “Thank you.”

  “No problem,” Guthrie said. A pause as they all left the back of the ambulance. “Are you the one who did surgery on Detective Martinez?”

  “Yes. He should be in recovery, if you’re looking for him.”

  “We are,” Cole said. “And he’s not in recovery.”

  “Then I guess they moved him after he was attacked.”

  “You know about that, huh?”

  Ruthie gave a light snort. “You bet I do. I was in the room when it happened. But don’t worry, he was okay by the time I left.”

  four

  RUTHIE STIFLED HER FRUSTRATION and did her best to keep her nerves under control. Would these guys never leave? Isaac didn’t want his partner to know he was okay. The fact that someone tried to kill him in the room had convinced her he might have good reason to want to hide out, and she was going to help him. Now she just hoped she didn’t do something stupid and mess it up.

  Her heart pounded so hard she thought for sure they’d notice. Stay calm, Ruthie. Act normal. You’ve got this.

  The officer to her right, Detective Guthrie, had sharp blue eyes that seemed to cut their way into her very soul, chipping away at
her half-truths to expose the lies dripping from her lips.

  But instead of calling her on them, he shot one last look at the black bag that held his partner and shook his head. “All right. Come on, Paul. Let’s head back to recovery.” He dipped his head at Ruthie. “Thanks for your help, doctor.”

  “Any time.”

  Ruthie’s shoulders wilted for a split second before she grabbed her car keys from her pocket. The driver, Ben Carlisle, really had gone to the cafeteria to grab some coffee and a snack. But he’d be back before too long. “Oh boy,” she said, “that was nerve-wracking, but they’re gone. Stay put until I get my car and pull it around, okay?”

  “All of this is being caught on camera, you know. They’ll figure it out.”

  Having a voice come from the body bag was incredibly creepy. “I know. It’s okay. By the time they watch the security footage, we’ll be long gone.”

  “You could get in a lot of trouble for helping me. I’ll take it from here.”

  “I’m not worried about trouble. Stay still until I come back.”

  “And if the driver of this ambulance gets back before you do?”

  She sighed. “Let’s not worry about that until it happens. Seriously, stop talking. I’ll be right back.” Without waiting for his response, she took off for the doctor’s parking lot. It wasn’t far, and if Ben stayed true to his routine, she had a good ten minutes left to get her car, get Isaac, and leave.

  She clicked the fob to unlock her gray Honda Pilot and climbed into the driver’s seat. Where was she going to take him once she got him in the car? Backing out of the space, she pulled around to the ambulance and found things just as she’d left them. She opened the door and gasped. Isaac had freed himself from the body bag and was sitting on the gurney, pale and shaking. “Come on, you,” she said. “Can you walk?”

  “I hate to say it, but . . . maybe.”

  “Only one way to find out.” She looked back over her shoulder. “We’re running out of time.”

  “I’m coming.” He made his way to the edge of the gurney, then lowered himself to the floor. She grabbed his good arm and helped him into the passenger’s seat of her car. “The body bag,” he gasped. “Don’t leave it in there.”

  She snagged it and threw it in the back of the Pilot. “Ready?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Hey, Ruthie, what are you doing back here?”

  She gave a low groan, and Isaac winced as he turned his head to look out the window.

  “Nothing, Ben,” she said as she turned, trying to block his view of Isaac. “Was just on my way home and had to come back and get something.”

  “Thought you were going on vacation.”

  “Wow. It’s the topic of conversation around the hospital, huh?”

  “Don’t think you’ve taken a vacation since I’ve been doing runs.” His brows rose. “And that’s been two years. So, yeah, your vacation is ranking pretty high up there in the gossip mill.”

  “Well, I’m off to start enjoying it. Have a good night, Ben.”

  “You too, doc.”

  Ruthie pulled away, and Isaac let out a low huff of relief. “So,” he said, “can you head west on 26?”

  She shot him a tight smile. “Was planning on it.”

  Ruthie drove with an expert hand that allowed Isaac to relax a fraction. “Do you know everyone in the hospital? Like, well enough to have a decent conversation with them?” he asked. “I didn’t think we’d ever get out of there.”

  “Pretty much.”

  His shoulder throbbed with an intensity that set his teeth on edge, but taking something for it would have to wait until he was sure they were safe.

  “Lean the seat back,” she said. “You’ll be more comfortable taking some of the pressure off that wound.”

  He did so. And she was right. The throbbing eased slightly and his eyes wanted to close. He forced them to stay open. He couldn’t sleep yet, not until they were away from the hospital and out of danger. At least for the moment. “You know where we’re going, right?”

  “The mountains of North Carolina.” She pulled a brochure from the dash and passed it to him.

  “Nice.”

  “Yes. It’s lovely. My brother Derek talked me into booking it.” A pause. “So . . .”

  “So?”

  “Why was that guy trying to kill you, and why didn’t you want your partner to know where you were? Can you fill me in while we ride?”

  How much should he tell her? He didn’t even know her, much less feel like baring his soul. “I’m not exactly the most popular guy in the house right now.”

  “Not if you squealed on a cop.”

  “I didn’t squeal. I reported a fellow officer trying to steal cash from the evidence room. He says I misunderstood, so now I’m persona non grata—at least until I prove otherwise.”

  “Ah. Now the pharmacy analogy makes sense.” She paused. “You’re the guy.”

  “The guy?”

  “I’ve heard about you. And not everyone hates you. Some of us actually think you did the right thing. If it happened the way you said it did.”

  “It did. There was no misunderstanding. And who is us? Better yet, who are you?”

  “Ruthie St. John.”

  “Yeah. My doct—” Oh. Wait a minute. “Not St. John, as in—”

  “’Fraid so. My mother is Tabitha St. John, Chief of Police.”

  Isaac wished the seat would open up and swallow him. “Oh man. That is so messed up.” He laughed, ignoring the pain it caused. “Of all the surgeons in the hospital, I get you.”

  “Hey, I’m a good surgeon.”

  “It’s not that. It’s just that your whole family are cops. There’s no way you can understand what I’m doing.”

  She blew a raspberry. “That’s about the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. And I’m sorry you see it that way. The good news is, no one’s expecting me back to the hospital for a while, and my nosy family will probably leave me alone—at least until one of them watches the security footage. We have some time to figure out what to do with you.”

  “What do you mean what to do with me? I’m going to find the guy I’m looking for, then convince him to do the right thing and hand over proof that cash and drugs have been disappearing from the evidence room for a while now.”

  “What kind of proof?”

  “Doctored evidence logs and original security footage that’s been altered to look like no one was in the evidence room when the stuff disappeared. Whoever is doing this is going straight to the cash and the drugs. They don’t bother with the weapons.” He shook his head. “Someone has to stop it. Because if I don’t, the cost of their betrayal is going to be much higher than just some missing money. While that’s wrong and a crime in itself, there’s no telling where those drugs will end up. Maybe the schools. And then we’ll have dead kids turning up left and right. That’s not going to happen while there’s breath left in my body. And it starts with stopping whoever’s stealing from the evidence room.”

  “Can you narrow it down to a shift? A certain person working? A certain time of day?”

  “No. If I could do that, I could find the person responsible. These are guys who know how the system works, and they’ve found a way to circumvent it. Everything looks legit. Nothing looks like it’s missing. But the evidence tech who was helping them pull this off is now missing.”

  “How did you figure it out? How do you know for sure what’s happening?”

  “I had entered some evidence. Then, a couple of hours later, one of the guys who’d picked up the stash and delivered it to the evidence room said he’d found another bag that had fallen out on the ride to the station. I was heading inside and volunteered to take it in for him.”

  “Nice.”

  “I can be.” He shot her a faint smile. “Anyway, I went back to the room and told the guy what happened and signed that bag in to be added to the stash. There was a new evidence tech on duty; Howard had just switched out with this guy. When
he took me back to the locker and opened it, at least half of what I’d brought in was missing. I asked him where the rest was and he said that was it. I asked to see the logs and he showed me. It matched up with exactly what was in the locker. I didn’t say anything else—simply put the rest of the drugs in the locker and shut it. But it didn’t sit right. I knew what I knew. So I investigated Howard’s background, and he came back squeaky clean. Still, like I said, I knew what I’d brought in. I wondered if other stuff was going missing, so I started checking after that. One of those times, I caught Officer Lansing stuffing some cash in his shirt.”

  “His shirt? That doesn’t sound right.”

  “Didn’t look right, either. I confronted him and he said it was all a misunderstanding, that he was going to sign it out for a sting operation. Usually, I wouldn’t have thought anything about it, but after the missing drugs, I checked the records and no sting operation was in the works.”

  “And you reported it.”

  “I did. And Officer Lansing got called on the carpet. He denied everything, of course, and started turning others against me, blowing the whole thing out of proportion.” He sighed and shook his head. “I almost let it go. But the missing drugs bothered me. I couldn’t let that slide. I kept up my own investigation, and I guess word got around. And then Howard went missing—he’s the evidence tech I’m looking for.”

  “How do you know he’s still alive?”

  “Because he has to be.”

  She raised a brow, then sighed. “Okay. I see what you’re saying. And I understand you’ve got to find this guy. But for now, why don’t you rest? You’re awfully pale.”

  He snapped his lips shut and wished he could turn off his mind as easily as his words. He wanted to protest, insist that he could take it from here, but the fatigue and the pain pulling at him said he wasn’t going anywhere. So he took her advice and closed his eyes.

  The chief of police’s daughter. Great. He couldn’t remember how many siblings she had, but he was quite certain she was the only one who hadn’t gone into some type of law enforcement. He forced his eyes open. “So, what are you? The black sheep in the family?”