Just like any another patient. At least, Sally-Jo thought so, and she hoped other people thought the same. She kept her head down and pushed the gurney along the corridor, glancing up every now and again to make sure he was still out cold. She’d covered him with a hospital blanket, tucked in around the edges. But she’d had to leave his face uncovered, or else the only place she could conceivably be transporting him would be the morgue. It was his eyes that had given him away. The gaze he’d leveled at her as she’d passed him on her way to the ICU hadn’t been the disinterested glance of one stranger encountering another, or even the mildly flirtatious look of a man appraising a woman. Instead, he’d been sizing her up, evaluating her as a potential opponent, a possible suspect. He was no orderly, that was for sure. Sally-Jo had stepped through the doors of the ICU and felt the immediate increase in tension in the atmosphere. All heads turned toward her: the nurses, the doctors bustling about, and the two uniformed cops sitting over beside the bed in the corner.
