Page 89 of Eighteen (18)

“Are you OK?” Mateo asks. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

I just stare at him. And then Olivia stirs in my arms and I remember. “Oh, my God. I think something’s wrong with my niece.” I say it to the cops, not Mateo. Not Danny. I really need help and these guys are not the knights I imagined them to be. “She’s not waking up right.”

“Did you give her anything?” one cop asks.

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “She was in there.” I nod to Phil’s house. “My brother-in-law left her with his girlfriend and I was taking her home. But something’s wrong. I think she needs a doctor.”

“I’ll take them,” Mateo says.

And if I didn’t know it already, this is the clincher. Because one says, “OK, we got what we needed and all that’s left is to search the house, but we’re going to need to question her. So as soon as you take care of the kid, bring the girl down for a statement.”

Mateo grabs me by the arm and starts leading me across the street. One of his cars is parked there—not the Camaro or the Mustang, one we’ve never driven in before. I’ve seen it in the garage.

I don’t have a seat for Olivia and this makes me nervous, but her slow breathing and lack of response pushes that minor panic right out of my head.

I want to question Mateo. Ask him about so many things. But I can’t stop hugging Olivia. “Something is wrong with her, Mateo. Hurry.”

Mateo sticks a flashing light on the top of his car and speeds to the hospital where he pulls into the emergency drop-off. “Something’s wrong with her,” I tell the receptionist at the check-in desk. “She’s not waking up. She’s not breathing right.”

“Sit down,” Mateo says, pointing to a chair. “I’ll take care of it.”

“No,” I say, getting pissed off. “This is an emergency. She needs help.”

The receptionist picks up the phone and speaks to a nurse who must work in the back, and then she puts the phone down and says, “Have a seat.”

I take a deep breath. I remember how long it took me to be seen when I came here for my ear and there’s no way I’m going to sit quietly for an hour. “I’m not having a seat. I’ll stand here all fucking night if I have to. I’m not having a seat. Get someone now.”

“Ma’am,” another receptionist says. “You’re not the only emergency here.”

“Goddammit,” Mateo says to me. To me! “Go sit down and I’ll handle it.”

I don’t sit down, but I walk away and watch as Mateo flashes some kind of ID at the lady. She nods and then calls the nurse again. He walks over to me and says, “They’re coming right now.”

“You just didn’t want me to see that, right?” I seethe. “You didn’t want me to know that you work for the police, right?”

He just stares at me. “Later, Shannon. Not here. Not now.”

A nurse calls my name and I hurry over to the door where she’s waiting. “What’s the problem?” she asks, ushering me into the triage area and waving me into a room.

“I don’t know, but she’s sleeping and she won’t wake up.”

The nurse takes Olivia out of my hands and lays her down on the exam table. Olivia’s head rolls to the side and her arms and legs are slack and motionless. I’d think she was dead if I couldn’t see her chest rising and falling. But it’s very slow. Too slow. Even I know this.

The nurse lifts one of Olivia’s eyelids and shines a light in Olivia’s eye. Then she places a tiny device on Olivia’s big toe. A machine struts beeping nearby and I watch the lights dance on the display.

“What did she take?”

“What?” I ask, looking back at the nurse.

“Drugs. What kind of drugs did she get into?”

“She didn’t take any drugs.” But my stomach sinks.

“If she knows,” the nurse says, looking at Mateo now, “she needs to tell me. It will save a lot of time and maybe the baby’s life.”

“Shannon, what did you give her?”

“Me?” He did not just say that. “I didn’t give her anything.”