Free T Wave by Steven F. Freeman

hands. “Why are we always so hungry afterwards?”
    Nancy peered at him over a glass of bubbly held at eye level. “‘Cause we’re working up an appetite.”
    They moved to the back porch. Dennis set his drink and the food on a glass side table and wrapped a strong arm around Nancy. The murmuring of crickets and nocturnal frogs provided a soft background chorus to their conversation.
    Nancy sipped her champagne and leaned her head against Dennis’s shoulder. “We’ve got to find a way to be together—always.”

SUNDAY, JULY 15

CHAPTER 18
    The next day revealed a cloudless, azure sky. Heat waves rising off the surface of the hospice’s parking lot lent the building a wavering, surreal quality, as if with the snap of a mischievous genie’s fingers, the building might disappear altogether.
    Inside the hospice, Peggy Ronquillo skirted the edge of consciousness, her perceptions of reality blurring as a result of her illness as well as the medicines designed to make her more comfortable. The monitors attached to her arm and chest emitted the regular tones which offered reassurance that—for the moment—all was well. Her doctors had predicted she would live at least a few more months, so the hospice staff had orders to intervene if her life began to slip away.
    Peggy had been admitted for respite care so her family could travel to an out-of-town graduation for a few days. Prior to leaving, her family members filed into the room throughout the day, reminiscing more among themselves than with Peggy herself, who scarcely registered their presence as a result of the heavy narcotics the hospice staff continued to administer every few hours. Eventually, the family members departed for their journey, leaving Peggy alone.
    As the day drew to an end, a new visitor entered the room, quietly shut the door, and turned toward the prone figure. The sound of footsteps ceased as the visitor reached the side of the bed.
    “Miss Ronquillo,” whispered the visitor, “you’ve been quite tenacious, but it’s time to let go.”
    As the visitor touched the “off” button on the monitoring equipment and moved the alarm switch to the “disable” position, the room fell into silence. The visitor flipped the toggle switch on the wall’s oxygen port, discontinuing the flow of life-sustaining gas.
    The patient’s shallow respirations slowed. To ensure a thorough job, the visitor placed a heavy hospital blanket over the prone figure’s nose and mouth. Within seconds, Peggy’s respiration slowed, and her skin color gradually shifted from pale to white to grey. Without a sound, her chest made a last, feeble rise, slowly sank, and fell still.
    The visitor reactivated the flow of oxygen and flipped back on the monitoring equipment and alarm switch. The visitor scurried from the room while the equipment booted up. By the time the alarm began to sound, the visitor was standing by the elevator door, whistling an absentminded rendition of “The Yellow Rose of Texas.”
    Several nurses and a Physician’s Assistant rushed to the room as the claxon from the monitors began to wail. The sound of their life-saving efforts could be heard in the hallway.
    Several minutes later, Nurse Donahue appeared at the nurse’s station wearing a resigned expression.
    “Miss Ronquillo just passed,” she told the shift supervisor. “We need to notify the family.”

CHAPTER 19
    Two days after Jacob’s death, Alton waited with Mallory in her apartment to hear from their friends, whom they had offered to take to dinner.
    “Are you having any luck with your drug investigation?” asked Alton.
    “Yeah, I have a few good leads. If I had to guess, I’d say one of them will pan out.”
    “That’s cool—not that I’m surprised.”
    “I heard an interesting conversation yesterday when I was at the hospice working my case. William Cline called Nancy Goins and was ragging her about Serenity’s lack of patients.” She recounted the side of the brief