Chapter 23

Nurse Benson stayed with Willow until she was well into a deep sleep. She wasn’t on shift, but she didn’t like the thought of leaving Willow without supervision, ever again if she could help it. In the thick silence of the hospital room, Bertha sat in contemplation of how she’d gotten there, to that moment. Early in her career, as a young ambitious nurse, she’d been appointed head nurse, assisting big shot surgeons who had the most important cases.

An offer or two had come her way to further her studies, to become a sergeant herself, but to her, nursing was just as important, if not fundamental to patients’ healing. A turning point had come when she’d sat by her husband’s side for years, watching him wither away because he was too far down the donor list. And by the time it was his turn, his health had taken a swing for the worst, and he was no longer viable. He wasn’t even fifty when he passed. She’d sworn she’d do something to change that for everyone after that.

When she met Doctor Vermaak, he was The South African doctor who trained under Doctor Chris Barnard, the well-known pioneer heart-transplant surgeon. Vermaak was his understudy, well known for his unconventional ways, and his highly skilled hands when it came to transplants. His specialty was the heart and lungs, and one successful, experimental brain transplant, which never came to pass as a legal practice.

She and Vermaak had connected over the same fate that had changed their lives—the unnecessary death of a loved one because of the ‘fair proceedings’ of donor lists.

At first, it was her duty to make sure Doctor Vermaaks’ special transplant patients were adapting, healing, and most of all, she had to make sure that suspicion didn’t fall on the doctor regarding certain patients. Doctor Vermaak had only taken selected cases sparingly. Willow had been his second ‘special’ transplant patient that year, and he’d received a donor organ through his elite connections. Donor organs were taken from healthy candidates, and all Nurse Benson knew about the donors were they were obtained in a perfectly ethical, way.

There was an elite list created from private deals with viable candidates. She knew some had offered organs after their death, such as a kidney, as payment in exchange for medical care their families could not afford. Of course, part of the deal was that they keep very healthy, and should they fail their medicals—the deal was immediately terminated. That was as shady as it got.

Looking at Willow now, and thinking back to her distressing behavior, coupled with the fact that some strange man who claimed to be investigating on behalf of The Medial Board, Bertha’s suspicions were rising.

Using her phone, she pulled up the email of the last shipment Vermaak had received. It was then she noticed the signature of the usual courier ‘company’ was different. A cold hard lump grew in her throat. Something was wrong. She could feel it in her gut. The only way he would change couriers or suppliers in such delicate matters is if someone had gotten to him and blackmailed him. But she was sure he was kind of man that would rather die than risk the life of his patients. Closing down the emails, she sat in deep thought of investigating and tracking exactly who last two donors was. She knew the last recipient was very healthy and doing well after his transplant. But that was turning out to not be the case with Willow. Nurse Benson was getting up from her chair to walk over to Willow when she stirred, her eyes flew open.

“I can taste it,” she said, staring right at Betha Benson as she stood over her.

Bertha startled. “What? What can you taste?” she asked.

Willow looked around before her gaze came to rest on Bertha’s. There in the girl’s big emerald eyes, was an emptiness Bertha didn’t recognize or care for.

Willow closed her eyes again, a tear making its way down her cheek.

“Her heart,” she said, slipping back into her sleep.

Nurse Benson backed up a little more, distressed. “Okay, I can’t take this anymore, sweetie.”

She quickly made her way out of Willow’s room. She’d have to track her heart somehow. She needed to find out what was affecting the sweet girl so. The nurse’s station couldn’t be any farther away she thought as the angst rose up inside her. Grabbing the desk phone, Bertha dialed Vermaak’s office. When she got no answer, Nurse Benson tried his cell. Again, no answer. She looked up at the clock and felt confident Doctor Vermaak was long gone. She took her keycard and the copy of his office key before slipping away.

Crossing the sky-bridge, she made her way to the doctors’ offices. The light of the city and traffic below illuminated the way thought the tunnel of glass. She could be dismissed for what she was about to do, but the truth was more important to her at that moment. Exiting the sky-bridge, she entered the stark empty reception area. Where she noted the main door to the offices remained open, but no one was in sight. She dismissed it as a simple mistake and carried on her pursuit for truth.

One light burned in a dentist office as she passed down the main hall. Yet remained eerily quiet, with only a few backup lights still on. Her thoughts were diverted to one thing only—if she could discover the donor, then perhaps she could find a way to cure Willow.

The lights to the main reception of his offices were still on in Doctor Vermaak’s offices, which she found odd. She slid in her keycard and the door clicked open.

“Hello,” she called.

Someone replied, “I’m here.”

Closing the door behind her, she slid the card back into her pocket, “Oh thank goodness,” Bertha said to the other nurse walking her way. “Is he in?” she asked when she got view of the woman behind the voice. She was dressed as a nurse, but the outfit looked too big for the woman, and something didn’t sit right.

“Wait,” Bertha said, pulling a face as she looked around. “Where is Cynthia?”

The short and stocky woman looked almost lost, like she’d been caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to be.

“Are you new?” Bertha probed.

“Yes.” The dark-haired woman nodded. “Bank nurse. I’m filling in for the day.”

Nurse Benson straightened her shoulders. “Great, I need to get something …” She tried to pass into the hall, but the woman practically leapt in front of her. “Wait, I can’t let you…”

“Of course you can.” Bertha tried to pass on the other side.

The woman dipped her chin in determination, a murderous glare entered her eye. “I said, you can’t.”

Nurse Benson smiled wickedly. “I’m old and that should mean something in this world,” she said.

The woman gave her a questioning look.

“It means I’ve been around a lot longer than you,” Bertha said, scrutinizing the woman. “I have the authority here, dear, not you. I have been around enough to know you are up to no good.” Nurse Benson pushed her aside and went into Vermaak’s office despite the other woman.

The light was off and the blinds drawn; an unfamiliar sweet smell permeated the air. Switching the light on, the first thing that caught her eyes was a bunch of pretty white flowers in a clear vase on his desk. But the desk was littered with documents. But it was the flowers that kept her taught darkly suspicious. She’d never seen anyone use moonflowers in an arrangement, as far as she knew, they were poisonous, then her eyes fell to the mess on the floor behind the desk. She spun around, where she found the cushions of his chairs scattered all over the floor. Someone had been looking for something.

She retrieved her keys, bent down under the desk and found the secret drawer that kept records of his ‘special’ patients, and unlocked it. Damn, it was empty. Doctor Vermaak, she stood, her head feeling dizzy, had he fled? Bertha spun around in panic, anger taking over in hot waves. She swept a hand over his desk in frustration, throwing what remained on his desk to the floor then something caught her eye. It was an envelope addressed to W. Viviers. From the size and stamps, she knew it was an official report. She grabbed it, saying, “We’re going to need this.”

When she swung around to head out the door, there was a paper pinned to the wall behind the door with a bloody scalpel. Written in what looked like blood was,

A HEART FOR A HEART

In a panic she went for the desk phone to call security, the police, or 911 when something hard came crashing down on the back of her skull. As she fell to the floor all Bertha could think of was Willow, and who was going save her now?