“This is a hospital. Nobody notices.”
Jade thought the janitor would notice. There didn’t seem to be any choice, however. She followed the nurse out into the corridor and took tiny steps to keep the hem of the gown from flapping.
“You’re lucky Doc Harvey came from a bi
g city hospital. He knows what to do,” the nurse remarked.
They went through a pair of swinging doors marked HOSPITAL PERSONNEL ONLY and entered a lounge area where several nurses were drinking coffee and eating snacks from the vending machines. They glanced up curiously as she crossed the room behind the nurse.
“Right in there,” she said, holding open the door to a women’s locker room. “Towels and everything else you’ll need are in the closet next to the shower stall. There’s a disposable douche in there, too.”
Jade wished she would lower her voice. Everyone in the room was staring at her. “I’ve never douched,” she whispered.
“Nothing to it. The instructions are printed on the box.”
Jade slipped through the door. As the woman had said, she found everything she needed in the closet. She removed the hospital gown and stepped into the shower stall. Thankfully, the water was hot. Jade turned it on until it was scalding. She kept it as hot as she could stand it and welcomed its pounding sting. It was cleansing, purifying. She wanted to wash them and their hideous residue off her body. It amazed her that she had stood having it on her skin this long without losing her sanity.
After soaping three times, she propped one foot on the soap dish and washed the area between her thighs. It hurt so badly that it brought tears to her eyes, but she scrubbed and scrubbed until her skin was raw. Inexpertly, she used the douche and was glad that she did. Finally, she shampooed the mud out of her hair and rinsed her mouth out several times with hot water.
Afterward she felt better, although she knew she would never feel completely clean again. She had been sullied—mentally, physically, and emotionally. She could never again be what she had been. That thought left her feeling disconsolate and furious.
She dried off and then wrapped her wet hair in a coarse towel. There were several pairs of green scrubs folded on the top shelf of the closet. The second pair she held against her fit moderately well. The paper booties were meant to go over shoes, but she tied them onto her bare feet.
Timidly she opened the door and checked the lounge. The nurse was alone, sitting on a sofa watching a TV talk show. When she saw Jade, she stood up. “Would you like something? A Coke? Coffee?”
“No, thanks.”
“They called from the desk. The sheriff’s deputy is here to talk to you.”
“I’m ready.”
The booties whispered along the floor. The deputy was chewing the fat with the janitor and Dr. Harvey when she and the nurse approached the emergency-room desk. The law officer pushed his hat back on his head, assumed an authoritative stance, and regarded her suspiciously.
“Miss Sperry?”
“That’s right.”
“Please, sit down over here.”
Gingerly, Jade sat on the edge of a lavender vinyl divan. He dropped into a chair facing her. Dr. Harvey remained standing at the end of the couch. The deputy, who wasn’t any older than the doctor, took a small spiral notebook from the breast pocket of his uniform jacket.
“Dr. Harvey here says you claim you were raped tonight.”
She divided her incredulous gaze between them. “Why does everybody keep saying I ‘claimed’ this or I ‘said’ that? I was raped. Do you think I’m lying?”
“Hold on. Nobody’s accused you of lying. I’m just trying to find out what happened. Calm down, okay?”
Jade composed herself. It wasn’t easy. She had to call upon all her reserves of self-discipline to keep from screaming. The janitor and the nurses were once again huddled together at the desk nearby. Jade didn’t think she was being paranoid in assuming that they were whispering about her. Every once in a while one or all of them would glance in her direction, then quickly look away and resume their furtive conversation.
“What’s your full name?” the deputy asked.
His image began to blur. She realized that her eyes were filling with tears. “I was raped,” she stressed. “My rapists are running around free while I’m here being humiliated and insulted.” She drew a ragged breath. “I’ve already given the doctor my full name, address, birthday, and so forth. Wouldn’t you rather know what happened to me tonight and who committed the crime?”
“All in good time,” he replied, unfazed by her tearful appeal. “I’m using standard police procedure in response to this complaint. If the case comes to trial, you don’t want the perps to get off on a technicality, do you, little lady?”
“Why don’t you just answer his questions, Miss Sperry?” the doctor suggested, speaking softly and courteously. “In the long run, it’ll go faster. Can I get you something to drink?”
“No, thank you.”