Kisscut

Sara put her hand on the girl's back, surprised at how clammy it felt through the coat.

Lacey's teeth were chattering, but she managed to say, "I need to talk to you."

"Come here," Sara said, helping her stand. "Let's get you on the table."

Lacey hesitated, and Sara lifted her up onto the exam table.

"I don't…" Lacey began, but she was shaking too hard to continue. Sara put her hand to the girl's forehead, wondering if Lacey was shaking from fear or from fever. As hot as it was outside, Sara could not tell the difference.

"Let's get this coat off," Sara suggested, but Lacey would not unwrap her arms from her waist.

"What happened?" Sara asked, trying to keep her voice steady. There was an electric charge in the room, as if something really bad had happened.

Lacey tilted forward, and Sara caught her before she fell off the table.

"I'm so sleepy," she said.

"Sit up for me a minute," Sara told her. She raised her voice, calling into the hallway, "Molly?"

"I'm not feeling well," the girl said.

Sara held her hands against Lacey's thin shoulders. "Where do you hurt?"

She opened her mouth to speak, vomiting all over Sara. Of course this had happened to Sara before, and she stepped back, but not in time to keep from getting splattered.

After her sickness subsided, Lacey murmured, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, sweetie," Sara told her.

"My stomach hurts."

"You're okay," Sara told her. Holding Lacey up with one hand, she stretched toward the paper towel dispenser and gave the girl some cloths.

"I feel sick."

Sara raised her voice again, this time louder than before. "Molly?" she called, knowing that it was futile. Exam two was on the other side of the building.

"Lie back," Sara told Lacey. "If you get sick, turn to the side."

"Don't leave me!" the girl cried, holding on to Sara's hand. "Please, Dr. Linton, I gotta talk to you. I gotta tell you what happened."

Sara could guess what happened, but there were more important things right now than hearing the girl's confession.

"I gotta tell you," the girl repeated.

"About the baby?" Sara guessed. She could tell from Lacey's expression that her guess was right. Sara felt stupid for not having figured it out before. She said, "I know, sweetie. I know. Just lie down and I'll be right back."

The girl's body tensed. "How do you know?"

"Lie down," Sara told her. Thinking this would soothe her, Sara offered, "I'll go call your mom."

Lacey bolted upright. "You can't tell my mom."

"Don't worry about that now."

"You can't tell her," Lacey insisted, tears streaming down her face. "She's sick. She's real sick."

Sara did not understand what the girl meant, but she soothed her anyway. "It's going to be okay."

"Promise me you won't tell her."

Sara said, "Honey, we'll worry about that later."

"No!" she yelled, gripping Sara's arm. "You can't tell my mom. Please. Please don't tell her."

"Stay right here," Sara ordered. "I'll be right back."

She did not wait for an answer. Sara stepped into the hallway, slipping off her soiled lab coat as she walked toward the nurses' station.

Nelly asked, "What happened?"

"Call an ambulance," Sara said, tossing her coat into the dirty linen bin. She leaned back, looking around the corner to make sure Lacey had not left the room. "Get Molly in six right now, and then call Frank over at the police station."

"Oh, my," Nelly mumbled, picking up the phone.

Elliot came out of one of the exam rooms. "Hey, Sara?" he asked. "I've got a six year old with-"

"Not now," Sara told him, holding up her hand. With a glance down the hallway, she went into her office and dialed Jeffrey's cell phone. She let it ring four times before hanging up. Next, she dialed the station.

Maria Simms answered. "Grant County Police Station. How may I help you?"

"Maria," Sara said. "Find Jeffrey, send him over to the clinic right now."

A banging noise echoed up the hallway, and Sara mumbled a curse as she recognized the sound of the back door popping open.

Maria said, "Sara?"

Sara slammed down the phone and ran out into the hallway, prepared to chase after Lacey. What she saw stopped her cold. Mark Patterson stood at the end of the hall, every muscle in his body tensed. There was a cut across his abdomen that stained his blue shirt to a dark purple, and his jeans were torn at the knee as if he had skidded across asphalt.

"Lacey?" he screamed, sliding open the first door he came to.

Sara heard a shocked gasp from the mother of the patient in the room, followed by the wails of a frightened child.

"Sara?" Nelly asked. She was standing at the nurse's station with the telephone in her hand.

Sara said, "Call the station. Tell them to send whoever they can."

"Lacey?" Mark repeated, his voice vibrating through the hallway. Thankfully, he had not noticed the tail end of the hall and the two exam rooms off to the side.

He came closer, and Sara could see that his clothes were stained and dirty-looking. Flecks of white paint covered everything. His hair looked greasy and was uncombed, as if he had not bathed in a while. Sara had seen Mark many times over the last decade, but she had never seen him looking so unclean.

"Goddamn it!" Mark screamed, throwing his hands into the air. "Where's my fucking sister?"

A couple of doors behind Sara slid open, and she turned, signaling for the parents to stay inside.

Molly stood beside Sara, holding a chart to her chest. It was the first time Sara had ever seen the nurse shocked by anything that happened in the clinic.

"Mark," Sara said, putting some authority into her tone. "What are you doing here?"

"Where's Lacey?" he said, slamming his hand into the next door. The panel shook on its slider, and Sara could hear a child screaming behind it.

Nelly's voice was muffled as she talked to someone on the phone. Sara could not make out the conversation, but she hoped to God they were sending somebody.

"Mark," Sara began, trying to keep her voice calm. "Stop this. She's not here."

"The hell she's not," he countered, taking a step toward her. "Where is that little cunt?" He slammed his hand against the door again, punching an impression into the wood. Nelly screamed and ducked behind the counter.

"Where is she?" he demanded.

Sara purposefully made what she hoped was a nervous glance toward her office. Mark picked up on it immediately.

"Aha," he said. "She in there?"

"No," Sara told him.

He smiled, stepping closer to her. Sara could see that his pupils were as small as pinpricks, and guessed that whatever he was on was not about to dissipate any time soon. Up close, he seemed to be giving off an odor. Sara was not certain, but the smell reminded her of chemicals.

She asked, "What are you on, Mark?"

"I'm about to be on my fucking sister if she doesn't keep her fucking mouth shut."

"She's not here," Sara told him.

"Lace?" Mark said, craning his head around the office door. "You better get the fuck out here right now."

Sara caught movement out of the corner of her eye. She knew from the neon-yellow blur that it was Lacey, trying to make her way out the back door. A cold sweat chilled Sara as she calculated how long it would take for Lacey to make it to the exit. She stared at Mark, willing Lacey to hurry, but the girl was not moving. She was standing stock still as if someone had pi

"She in there?" Mark asked.

"No," Sara said, looking over his shoulder. "She's behind you."

Lacey's hand went to her mouth as if to stop herself from screaming.

"Right," Mark said, giving Sara a scathing look.

"I want you out of here right now, Mark. You're trespassing."

He ignored her, walking into the office. Sara followed him at a distance, trying to be casual about the fact that she was trapping him in the room. She prayed that Maria had gotten hold of someone, even if it was Brad Stephens.