Free Dead on Arrival by Lori Avocato Page A

sighed again just on principle. “It just feels good to be all right. My head is better.” It really hurt like hell, but if I told him, he’d probably not talk and insist I lay down on the stretcher or something.
    Dano leaned back toward his original position. “Good. Good.”
    I smiled to myself. Sitting next to him was not unpleasant at all. For some strange reason (and I was blaming it on hormones) I wanted to touch him. Anyplace. His arm. His hand. His thigh. Yikes. I wanted to touch ER Dano!
    Get a grip , I told myself, rationalizing that the knock on my head was causing strange reactions in my libido.
    However, ER Dano was one hot guy.
    Even Jewish, pseudo-Catholic Virgin Virginia had thought so.
    Then again, she was whacko. I looked at Dano, told myself to change the subject in my head, and asked, “How long have you been working at TLC?”
    He looked surprised at the question, and I’m guessing, if I wasn’t injured earlier, he wouldn’t have answered. But he did look at me and say, “Long time.”
    I forced a chuckle. Sounded pretty damn good to me. I wondered if I should take some acting course to help out with this career. “What’s a long time?”
    â€œIt’ll be twenty-one years pretty soon.”
    â€œWow. Twenty-one years at TLC. I’m impressed.” I really was, along with wondering how the heck old he was.
    â€œStarted at nineteen, Nightingale,” he said as if he’d read my mind!
    â€œSo this has been your only job?”
    He nodded. “I started at TLC right after taking courses.” He looked off into space and said, “Hadn’t really thought about it being my only job.”
    Dano sounded a bit melancholy, which was certainly out of character for someone so tough, so rough around the edges, and so…edgy.
    While still looking into space he said, “Twenty-one freaking years. No one should have to go through this that long.”
    Wow. I should have remained silent, but I said, “Through this? What is this?”
    He never looked at me but said, “Everything we see. Everything that can happen to a human body. Everything that can be done to a human body.”
    â€œIt is a tough job.”
    He swung around toward me. “Tough? You don’t know tough.” He leaned back and sighed. “Every night. Nightmares. Bodies. Parts. The ones you know won’t make it. The ones you know won’t make it, and there’s no freaking thing you can do about it.”
    I touched his hand. He barely acknowledged me, but at least he didn’t push me off.
    â€œIt’s like a bucket. Keeps getting filled with pain, dying, death. But there’s holes in the bucket so the shit filters out.” He turned, looked me in the eyes, and said, “But it always gets refilled. Always.”
    I patted his hand very gently and then took mine away. “I guess it never would get any easier no matter how long you work at it.”
    â€œNope.”
    Time to lighten the mood, I decided. “Oh, yeah. TLC. How’d it start doing so much better?” I asked also to see if his story jived with what I already had heard.
    Dano proceeded to tell me about Payne’s uncle who had started the company after owning a gas station near the interstate. His wreckers were often forced to be used to take patients to the hospital since Hope Valley didn’t have its own ambulance company. It was serviced by a few from Hartford and surrounding towns like Bloomfield and Glastonbury.
    â€œWhen he got sick, his…nephew took over.”
    â€œThat’d be Payne?”
    Dano didn’t look at me. “That was Payne.”
    A chill raced up my spine. Suddenly I could picture him dead on the floor, and the knife…sticking out. I swallowed in order not to get nauseous. “Who do you think killed him?” flew out of my mouth.
    Dano froze.
    Yikes.
    For some reason I looked to see Jagger. Even the