“Doing what?”

“Well,” Blake said slowly, “that’s kind of where I thought you could help. Like…I don’t know—whatever you need us to do, volunteering, I mean.” He grimaced. “And I don’t mean standing around greeting visitors.”

“Honey, this isn’t Home Depot. We don’t have greeters.”

“That’s good.”

“Give me a minute.” Abby sorted facts. They were both sixteen, or Blake would be in a few days. Legally they could do volunteer work at the hospital. Unpaid, but that was only fair, considering they were also completely unskilled. They were both bright, mature, and sensitive kids. “We could use a volunteer in the ER, and I bet Flann could use one in the OR.”

“Really?” Blake’s heart skyrocketed. “That would be incredible.”

“Do you have any idea what that would be like?” Abby said gently. “Those are two of the most challenging areas of the hospital. The patients we see are often very sick or seriously injured, even dying. It wouldn’t be easy, and it might be scary.”

“You do it every day. So does Flann.”

“I know, and it never gets any easier.” Abby tried not to think of the Hoffertins and the still, pale body of the beautiful young girl on the cold stainless steel table, her mother and father broken in grief. “And it’s still hard on us too.”

“I think we can do it, both of us. Please, Mom. We could help.”

“It would be mostly scut—taking things to the lab, helping the nurses change sheets and clean rooms, that kind of thing.”

“That’s okay. We’d still see things, learn things.”

“I’ll have to talk to Presley and Harper and make sure they’re all right with it. And clear it with Flann too, but I’m sure she would love another body up in the OR to help out.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Blake just about vibrated while managing to stay in one place. “I’m gonna call Margie and let her know.”

“Tell her it’s not a done deal,” Abby called after him.

“Got it.”

She smiled as his footsteps disappeared down the hall. In a few short months, he’d transformed, not just physically as he transitioned, but emotionally and psychologically. He was happy now. His happiness filled her with joy.

And his life wasn’t the only one that had changed. She thought of Flann and the night ahead. Still smiling, she speed-dialed a number and waited. “Glenn? Let’s get the newbies into the conference room and bring them all up to speed.”

Chapter Six

Mari slumped on the narrow bench across from her locker and tried to summon the energy to pull out her purse and drag her weary body down the hill, through town, and back to her apartment. Twenty more minutes of movement seemed like an eternity. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so tired. She could, actually, but then she hadn’t been just tired, she’d been drained of everything: energy, will, even hope. Not now, though. This was an altogether different form of exhaustion. This was the aftermath of a campaign waged and won. Beneath the nagging ache in the small of her back, the twinge of pain in her calves, and the faint harbinger of a headache throbbing at the base of her skull, she felt anything but hopeless. She hadn’t worked so hard in over a year, and she’d been so busy all day, she hadn’t been able to think of anything except the patients, their families, and her obligations. When she wasn’t treating one of them, or discussing a case with Abby or Jason Monroe, the other ER doc, she was supervising one of the new students. And somewhere in the midst of all of that, she’d had to meet with Glenn to review the curriculum, only to discover she had a lecture to give the next morning at seven a.m. She looked at her watch. In exactly twelve hours.

Mari closed her eyes and groaned.

“How are you doing?” Glenn said from somewhere so close behind her, Mari jumped. “Sorry, didn’t mean to bother you.”

“No,” Mari said, springing up on suddenly shaky legs. She caught herself with an outstretched arm on the lockers. “You didn’t. I was just…thinking.”

Glenn frowned. “You look a little whupped.”

“Long day.” Mari opened her locker, fished out her bag, and slung it over her shoulder. She smiled brightly—at least she hoped she looked perkier than she felt. She wasn’t sick, she knew the difference, but she didn’t want any questions about her doing the job. “Good day, though. I think I’m still on West Coast time.”

“Uh-huh.” Glenn leaned her shoulder against the bank of lockers. Mari was trying to pretend she wasn’t almost out on her feet, and she wouldn’t embarrass her by telling her the act wasn’t working. She appreciated pride, and guts. It had been a good day, different than what she was used to, but surprisingly satisfying. If she wasn’t used to eighteen-hour days she’d be beat herself. After the chaos of the mass casualty alert first thing in the morning, four bright-eyed and eager PA students had arrived on their doorstep, greener than green, and they had a full board backed up of routine patients to see. Some of them had already been waiting several hours. Glenn had planned a full morning of orientation talks and tours for the students, but patients came first. The newbies didn’t seem to mind. Their first clinical rotation and Glenn had to sort them out on the fly, get them assigned to a senior supervisor, make sure they understood the chain of command, and keep an eye on them all day. Overseeing new troops in the field whose entire orientation included little more than an exchange of names wasn’t anything new, and at least under the current circumstances, they weren’t likely to get themselves blown up if they made a mistake. But the potential was there, figuratively if not literally, for them to FUBAR a trusting civilian, and that was unacceptable. So Glenn spent the whole day with eyes on the students even though each had their own assigned supervisor.

Mari had taken to the ER as if she’d been working there forever. Glenn clued in pretty quickly that she was a natural with patients, got along well with the nurses, and didn’t ask for help unless she needed it—and knew when she did. Glenn hadn’t spent valuable time watching Mari, and if she had, she might have noticed sooner the deepening shadows under her eyes. Her mistake—one she wouldn’t repeat.

“Things went pretty well today,” Glenn said. “You’ve got a knack with the students.”

Mari smiled. “Thanks. They seem like a pretty good bunch.”

Glenn unlocked her locker, stuffed her wallet into her back pocket, and locked up again. “So far.”

“You have any worries?” Mari looked around to make sure they were alone. “I didn’t notice any obvious problems.”

Glenn shrugged. “No, not really. The usual pecking order—at the top is Antonelli, who’s overconfident and cocky, and then there’s Marcus on the bottom rung, uncertain and deferential. They’ll need watching for different reasons. Baker and Hernandez are the middlemen, both solid, not flashy but they get the job done.”

“Antonelli has something to prove,” Mari said softly, thinking the big, dark-haired, movie-star-handsome man’s attitude reminded her a little of Glenn. Although Glenn lacked the arrogance—she didn’t need it. Her skill was all the swagger required to cement her place at the top of the hierarchy. “That might come from him being older than the rest. And his military service is a plus, even if it makes him a little hardheaded.”

Glenn laughed. “He’s got decent experience, it’s true. Maybe a little too used to going it alone. Sometimes experience gets in the way.”

“Double-edged sword.”

“Many-edged sword,” Glenn murmured. “At any rate, no clear and present danger among the group.”

“I agree.” Mari hitched her shoulder bag a little higher. “Well, I need to get home if I’m going to put together that talk for tomorrow morning.”

“I’ve got a PowerPoint, if you want it, that would cover most of it. It hasn’t been updated in a while, but it shouldn’t take long to add a few pertinent slides. Place to start.”

“I’ll take it,” Mari said instantly and pulled out her phone. “If you give me your number, I’ll text you my email address right now. This is great.”

Glenn hesitated. Flann and the hospital operators were the only ones who had it. Even Carrie didn’t have it, and they often shared rides to and from events. Come to think of it, Carrie had never asked and she’d never thought to offer. “Right. Sure.”

Mari tapped away, and a few seconds later, Glenn’s phone buzzed. She checked the text and saw an email address. “Got it.”

“You’re a lifesaver.” Mari started for the door. “I’ll be home in twenty minutes, so send it over whenever you think of it.”

“You walking?” Glenn asked. Sunset wasn’t for another hour, and even if it had been dark, Mari would be fine walking home alone. Still, unease gnawed at the part of Glenn’s psyche that couldn’t stop assessing, surveilling, hunting for hidden dangers. For the secret killers.

Mari nodded. “How did you know?”

“Because you can drive anywhere in town in ten minutes or less, and if you’re not living in town, you’ve probably got at least a half-hour drive.”

“Excellent deductive reasoning.” Mari laughed. “I’m on Elm. No car, but it’s a nice walk.”

“Wait until it snows.”

“Huh. I’ve never lived where it snows.”

“Hoo-boy.” Glenn grinned. “I didn’t notice you taking a lunch break. Dinner either, now that I think of it.”

“I didn’t even notice I was hungry.” Mari laughed. “I’m starting to now, though.”

Glenn knew for a fact Mari hadn’t taken a break of any kind all day. Maybe that was why she looked like a twenty-minute walk would wipe her out. Glenn hadn’t been planning to leave, wasn’t in any hurry to get home with nothing much to do, but she sensed Mari was working hard to cover up her fatigue. Surprising herself, Glenn said, “Me too. How about I walk down with you, and we get something to eat?”