NECESSARY MEASURES Read online

  Book Two of the Healing Touch Series

  NECESSARY MEASURES

  By Hannah Alexander

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Necessary Measures

  Urgent Care

  About the Author

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Evan Webster opened his locker door and shook off a chill of apprehension in the silent hall. What he’d seen and photographed today would be enough to get him killed if he wasn’t careful.

  He reached for his camera and stuffed it into his jacket pocket, gaze darting down the hallway where Brooke Sheldon waited for him—pacing, of course. Typical of her. Despite the danger he could not resist taking a few seconds to admire her tall slender silhouette. Her footsteps made no sound. It was as if she’d slipped into another dimension and left him alone in a place where known and unknown enemies loomed.

  He grabbed his laptop. A door closed nearby. Footsteps ambled in his direction. He was about to call to Brooke when a familiar voice rumbled in his ear.

  “Webster.”

  Evan banged his elbow on the locker door, turned, and nearly buried his nose in Kent Eckard’s muscle-stuffed chest. The high school junior’s shoulders blocked light from the hallway but Evan could see his glower.

  No backing down. No smiling. No way. “Um, hi Kent.” Be nice. Save a life. Your own. Hard to believe they’d once been friends. “What are you doing out of class early?”

  “I saw you and your girlfriend snooping for more dirt on me.”

  Evan swallowed. “Brooke’s not my girlfriend and—”

  “You’d better give it a rest, Webster, while you still have a future or you’ll be history.” Kent squared his shoulders and smirked. The stupid pun must have cost him a month’s worth of brainpower.

  Kent and his gang of borderline-psycho friends were a tad displeased by the articles Evan wrote that had so enraptured the police drug task-force. Evan’s initial idea for the articles began after school let out last summer when he trustingly took two pills Kent gave him.

  He cleared his throat, emboldened by a rush of resentment. “If there’s no dirt to dig up there won’t be a problem.”

  Kent’s brows formed a thick V across his acne-scarred forehead. “For a runt you got a big mouth.”

  Evan closed the offending orifice. Because of his articles, the superintendent and school board had initiated locker searches and expelled two students so far.

  Kent Eckard was not the kind of person one wanted to irritate. Evan did so in a big way last year when he told the police where he got the speed.

  Kent’s hands bunched into fists. He leaned into his frown. “You were in the locker room yesterday.”

  “I was in classes yesterday.”

  “Not after the last bell. What did you hear?”

  Evan stood on tiptoe to see if Brooke was still waiting. “Was I supposed to hear something?” It wasn’t what he’d heard that would get these dealers in trouble but the images he had in his phone and camera.

  Kent moved to block Evan’s view with an overdeveloped shoulder. “I asked you a question.”

  “Yeah? I have a question for you.” Stupid, Evan knew, but he couldn’t help himself. “Did you know that if you keep doing meth you’ll lose your physical tone? Soon you’ll have the muscles of an alley rat.”

  Kent grabbed the collar of Evan’s shirt and jerked him forward.

  Evan wished he’d been born without a mouth.

  “What’ll you blab to the cops this time?”

  Evan swallowed. “Not a thing.” The pictures would tell the story for him.

  “Liar.” Kent’s breath reeked. He jerked his fist back and slammed it into Evan’s cheekbone, driving his head against the edge of the locker door. Metal sliced into scalp. The jerk shoved a shoulder into Evan’s stomach, driving his rear into the narrow locker.

  The force ejected the air from Evan’s lungs in a squeal of weakness. He couldn’t get out. Kent socked him in the jaw.

  Darkness. Streaks of light. A scream. Would he lose every scrap of dignity and wet himself?

  But the scream wasn’t coming from him. And it wasn’t one of fear but outrage. Before Kent could strike again the scream grew in volume. A blur flew at Evan’s attacker from the side with a blast of speed and a halo of short dark hair flying in every direction. Brooke.

  The attack knocked Kent sideways. He stumbled and nearly went down.

  She drove her elbow into his left temple, then his right eye. “Help! Somebody help us!” She hit him again so hard he grunted. “Help!”

  The first dismissal bell drowned out her voice.

  Kent shook his head and made another fist. Evan slammed the corner of his laptop against the side of the bully’s head. Brooke launched a vicious well-placed kick that dropped Kent to his knees.

  Doors flew open along the hallway and students erupted.

  Brooke pivoted toward Evan. “Are you okay?”

  He was dying. “I’m fine. Let’s get out of here.”

  The wounded bull growled. “Webster!”

  Brooke grabbed Evan by the sleeve and jerked him out of his locker. “Let’s go!”

  Evan slammed the locker door behind him and followed Brooke, praying that his skull was intact and he wouldn’t pass out before they reached safety.

  ***

  Hospital Administrator William Butler flexed his left arm and wiggled his fingers to brush away an uncomfortable tingle that pulsed beneath his skin like a weak electric current. He shifted in his seat. It was nothing. No time to worry about it. The future of the hospital—possibly the whole town of Dogwood Springs—had apparently been sited in the crosshairs of heavy-handed bureaucracy.

  The husky-yet-feminine voice of Mayor Jade Myers blared through William’s office suite from the phone’s speaker on his desk. “I refuse to be manipulated, Will. You know we can’t allow the insurance company to go unchallenged.”

  “Get legal involved.”

  “That’ll cost us even more.”

  “That’s why we have the policy.”

  “I need you with me on this.”

  He suppressed a sigh. “I won’t let them push us around.” He’d always been a chump for a damsel in distress but she’d chosen a bad day to appeal to him. He punched the down arrow on the volume button and reminded himself to remain calm and reassuring.

  “Then would you please talk to them again?”

  Remain calm. “I’ve done enough talking.” Strange that his lips didn’t seem to want to cooperate.

  “But if they know the mayor and the hospital administrator are in agreement—”

  “They know.” He drummed his fingers on the desk, realized what he was doing, stopped. This wasn’t like him. He didn’t fidget. “Get someone else to make a few calls.” Jade was a brilliant and effective mayor but she wore him out.

  An impatient sigh whispered through the phone. “I need your help, Willy.”

  He bit down on his tongue. Must not have slept well last night. “Nobody calls me Willy.”

  There was a short pause. “Well excuse me Mr. Butler,” she drawled. “You’re in a mood today.”

  “I’m busy.” And he hated the tinny jingle of the Christmas music that had accompanied her multiple calls. It wasn’t even Thanksgiving yet. Even his own irritability irritated him. And surprised him.

  A knock at the closed door of his office suite punctuated the uncomfortable silence from the line. His longsuffering assistant stepped in. Bonnie had a yellow sticky note on her finger and an apologetic expression in her brown eyes.

  He read the note and grimaced. Dr. Caine on line two. Great. What more could go wrong?

  William nodded to Bonnie and leaned toward th
e phone. “Jade, would you hold for a minute?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  He bit his tongue and punched Hold. He had to force a smile to infect his voice. “Mitchell? What can I do for you today?”

  “I want to know why your ER director is still riding roughshod over my scheduling requests.” The voice clipped through the speaker in the man’s typical complaint rhythm, low and growling.

  There went the smile. “Why ask me? You’re the chief of staff.” Thank goodness that situation would change by the end of the month. The man was a Missouri mule with a bit in his teeth.

  “Last I checked you were still the hospital administrator,” Caine snapped.

  Another streak of energy shot down William’s arm. “Darn straight. As such I’ve got enough to do. Excuse me but I’m keeping the mayor on hold.” William hit the mayor’s line, cutting Mitchell off. “So Jade, who’re you going to call?”

  “Did you put the fire out?” Her voice had a peevish edge.

  He felt more than peevish but the penultimate diplomat in him came to the fore at last. “It’ll be okay. Get some business leaders on the line. Call the Chamber of Commerce.” Spread the misery around a little.

  Jade Myers, the attractive thirty-four-year-old mayor of Dogwood Springs, Missouri, led the city with the tenacity of a devoted mother. She was a staunch ally in this battle with insurance companies but she was looking to William for strength he didn’t feel today. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so weak and ineffective.

  If he’d had his druthers, instead of arguing with a box on his desk he’d be tramping through a cedar forest of green dusted with sunlight on this nice November day. But a man had to work.

  “William.” Jade emphasized his name slowly. “Better?”

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  “It’s been six months since the poisoning. We need—”

  “Get Judge Garrett on the line. He’s a great ally. I have a few fires to put out here today.” William flexed his shoulders and tried to shrug away the increasing chest pressure he’d been trying to ignore.

  “So you’re throwing me to the wolves?”

  “No, I’m telling you I’ve done all I can do right now. Build a posse. I’m not your only sidekick.”

  In a town of seven thousand, this hospital had treated more than a thousand of their citizens in the weeks following the discovery of mercury in part of the water supply. It was a financial and legal nightmare and the brunt of it was falling on Jade’s shoulders. He felt badly for her but he knew she could handle more than a few recalcitrant insurance companies.

  The tingle spread to his shoulder and across his chest. It caught his attention.

  “William? Is everything okay?”

  “It’s fine. Don’t wolly—” He clamped his mouth shut. His tongue felt thick. Tingling down his arm... pressure in his—

  “Will?” Jade’s voice sharpened. “What’s going on? You’re not fine.”

  He exhaled in a rush. “Gimme a—” He squeezed his eyes shut, banking down fear as he concentrated fully on perfect enunciation. “Wait a moment.”

  He felt as if a cat had just curled up on his chest for a nap.

  “Will!”

  He ignored her. The cat felt as if it weighed at least twenty pounds and with that sensation came increasing fear. He took good care of himself and had no family history of heart disease or stroke. This had to be stress. But heart and stroke symptoms at the same time? Didn’t make sense.

  “Jade—” Blast the timing! Focus on the words. “Call back later.” He pressed the disconnect button. The ER director whom Dr. Caine complained about so vehemently just happened to be on duty today. Time to pay a call.

  ***

  The final bell of the day rang at Dogwood Springs High, echoing across the large publication department, signaling the end to creativity—or rather what was for most students an opportunity to gossip, goof off, and let the editorial geeks and creative-writing nerds do all the work.

  Beau Sheldon, who didn’t mind being an editorial geek when he wasn’t studying or working at the hospital, loved the arrangement. He anticipated at least a few more minutes of peace to complete his printing job before Brooke and Evan rushed in, late as usual from their research wanderings across campus. Brooke would be chattering faster than she walked.

  Beau pushed his glasses to a more secure position on his nose. His twin sister was not a peaceful person.

  He leaned back in Miss Bolton’s comfortable chair. Outside the windows, students scattered across the broad front lawn in a race to see who could hit the streets of Dogwood Springs first. Everyone here loved the after-school cruising parade. Dad said kids used to do that when he was in school. Dogwood Springs still lived in the last century.

  The dwindling chaos of laughter, talk, and shuffle of feet gave way to the clink-shush-clink-shush of the antique Heidelberg letterpress as it printed and numbered, in ascending order, four hundred tickets for the junior-senior play. Only about fifty tickets to go and he could shut down. He inhaled the pleasant smell of ink and allowed himself a moment to dream about a future of pre-med, med school, and following in his father’s footsteps as an ER physician.

  Unfortunately, the dream was interrupted by a slamming door and a familiar female voice that blasted past the comforting rhythm of the press. The slap-clatter of feet echoed from the hallway. Two pairs. Coming closer. The wandering reporters were back early today.

  Brooke’s words spilled over one another in their race to escape her mouth. “Your mom can’t blame your dad for this, Evan. He wasn’t the one who attacked—oh will you look at that! You’re bleeding!”

  Beau tensed.

  “I can’t believe the nurse was already gone for the day.” Evan Webster’s tenor voice crackled with tension.

  “We’re going to the hospital right now,” Brooke said.

  “You don’t think it’s that bad, do you?”

  “Dad’s on duty. He can check you out. That monster’s getting expelled.”

  “I think I’m getting dizzy.”

  Beau stood up and turned off the printer. He’d warned them that someday their investigations would get them into trouble. And now he wouldn’t have time to clean the printer. Miss Bolton would ream him.

  “The superintendent will trust our word over Kent Eckard’s any day.” Brooke’s voice continued to echo down the hallway as she and Evan quickstepped closer. “Why is the guy even still in school? It isn’t as if he’s passing any classes.” She burst through the double doors of the department ahead of Evan, her dark gray eyes darker than usual, face flushed. “Beau!” She grabbed Evan’s arm. “That jerk jumped Evan in the hall and tried to stuff him into his own locker.” Something red streaked her cheek.

  “Did he get you too?” Beau rushed forward to check her face.

  She waved him away. “Not me. Turn around, Evan. Show him your head.”

  Face reddening from what appeared to be fist marks, their friend did as he was told. Blood oozed from an inch-long wound that matted his thick brown hair. Looked like a pretty clean cut.

  “Don’t you think he should go to the hospital?” Brooke’s stare dared Beau to disagree.

  He took a closer look. Evan definitely needed a doctor but he didn’t need to be frightened about the severity of the wound. “Wouldn’t hurt but it isn’t actively bleeding much now.”

  “If I end up in the hospital again Mom’ll make me live in Springfield with her and Ug,” Evan said.

  Beau winced at Evan’s latest name for his new stepfather. The guy did sort of resemble a Neanderthal, but still.

  “I can’t go to school up there, guys,” Evan said. “If they can do this to me here in Dogwood Springs, what would they do to me in a bigger school?”

  “Don’t they at least have security in bigger schools?” Brooke asked. “Maybe that would be best right now. At least half the student body in a Springfield school wouldn’t already hate you.”

  Evan blink
ed at her like a brown-eyed puppy she’d just kicked.

  “You probably need sutures or staples or something, Evan.” Beau glared at his sister. Sometimes she had the tact of an angry mama cow. “I doubt your family doc will be able to fit you in this late on a Friday afternoon.” He raised his hand before Evan could protest again. “When was your last tetanus booster?”

  “Tetanus? When I was eight or so, I guess.”

  Beau studied the flesh along the left side of their friend’s jawline. It had begun to darken. No telling what other injuries he had. Dad needed to see him. “I told you to stay away from that guy.”

  “He wasn’t exactly following Kent around,” Brooke said. “Kent followed him.”

  “What else did he do?”

  Brooke held up Evan’s left elbow. “Rammed him into a locker. And look at his cheek. He’ll probably have a black eye.”

  Evan’s face flushed and he pulled away from Brooke. “I’ll be okay.”

  “Probably,” Beau said, “but why don’t we let Dad decide?”

  “Shouldn’t we at least report this to a teacher first?” Evan asked.

  “We tried the nurse and she wasn’t there.” Brooke shook her head. “We can report it after Dad sees you. Maybe we should call an ambulance.”

  “No!” Evan’s injured face tinged an even brighter pink. “Let’s just go and get it over with.”

  Brooke went to her workstation and pulled out the suitcase she called a purse from beneath a stack of books. “I’ve got the keys.” She held them up. “I’ll drive.”

  Beau grabbed them. Her driving would scare Evan to death long before they reached the hospital. “You sit in back with Evan and keep pressure on that wound.”

  “You’re the one with the medical training.”

  “And you’re the one who dented Dad’s fender last month.”

  Evan cleared his throat. “Uh, guys?”

  “We’re on our way.” Beau grasped Evan’s arm.

  With a final glare at her brother, Brooke walked beside Evan to the car.

  Chapter 2

  “Lauren, I need you in two.” Grant Sheldon grabbed William Butler by the shoulders as their gray-faced administrator swayed forward. “What happened?”