Better the Devil You Don't Know Read online

  “God, I hope you’re wrong,” Dorey muttered.

  “Yeah, I kinda do too,” I agreed. In my opinion, this department needs a strong hand, not an overweight babysitter. The last boss we had was only there as a jump off to the next promotion. The fact that I wasn’t laid off in the last sweep was a miracle only God could have granted. Thank you, God. A lot of the non-clinical were laid off two years ago, causing the clinical staff to double up on their workload. And here in the security department, they cut three of our staff, leaving my crew very disgruntled. I took over the dispatch radio during the day because we didn’t have enough people to run it. I didn’t mind. With the reduction in staff, and the chief leaving for greener pastures, I needed more to do, or they’d realize they missed one and lay me off next. Was it wrong to hope that the new boss could save us from ourselves?

  Chapter Three

  Casey Dennis

  Colorado had never been on my list of places to live, mainly because of the cold climate. But after running out of money in Boulder, I looked at it as a sign that I was supposed to be there. Besides, I wanted to be as far away from Houston as I could. My shrink had challenged me to get out of my comfort zone and start fresh someplace else anyway. I never thought of shooting bad guys and solving murders as my comfort zone, until she said that. So, when I checked the want ads online and found the job at the hospital, I thought, why not? When I was a teenager, I had worked as a summer temp job as a patient transport tech at the Houston Methodist Hospital in Texas, and knew the basic rules and regs. This job as chief of security, would pay a hell of a lot more than even my detective job, and would be less stressful, plus I could leave the job at work when I went home at night. My shrink would be proud.

  Saturday nightshift change and I was walking the hospital campus, located on the outskirts of Boulder. I thought I’d check it out before I officially reported for work on Monday, October 24. I wanted to see the hospital before the hospital saw me. Angelstone Women’s and Children’s Center had issues, which I knew before I accepted the job because I did my research. It had been sold twice and budgets had been cut each time, mostly with non-clinical departments such as safety and security. The third sale was to a large health conglomerate willing to use their money to save the only children’s hospital in a thirty mile radius.

  When I interviewed with the new CEO, a balding, long-faced, tall-structured man, he told me that people were afraid to bring their children to the hospital because, among other things, they didn’t feel safe in it. That went through me like a knife through the heart. The reason I was even interested in that job was because my shrink suggested I challenge myself by facing my nightmares. I was qualified for the position based on my bachelor’s degree in business and my seventeen years with the police department. I was underqualified based on my newly developed fear of small children, but of course, I did not include that in my resume.

  Part of my deal with them was an increase in the security budget, allowing me to hire more people and secure the campus. The easy part was to have more lighting installed. Almost midnight and I saw large areas of the campus that were dark, including around the parking deck. I was shocked at how many derelicts I saw loitering on the ground floor of the deck, which had no cars and no lighting. I also noticed that the security cameras were well placed, but some of them didn’t seem to be working properly. I walked over to the emergency room and took a seat in the waiting room. A baby cried loudly in its mother’s arms and I wondered what was wrong with it. Did babies cry like that when they were sick?

  A pretty young nurse walked over to me. “Can I help you, ma’am?”

  “Do you have a security guard on duty?”

  “Of course. Would you like me to bring him over?”

  “No, thank you. I just was curious,” I explained.

  “Do you need medical attention?” she asked.

  I looked up at her. “No, I’m fine, thanks.”

  She was not happy with that answer, but I wanted to stick around and see how the ER operated.

  The nurse walked back to the nurse’s station, and then turned and entered an exam room. A moment later, a security guard stumbled out, tucking his shirt into his slacks and then raking his fingers through his hair. As he walked toward me, I noticed another nurse exit the same room he had, also disheveled.

  “You can’t loiter here, lady,” he said. “Move along.”

  I was wearing pressed slacks and shirt, and brown leather loafers that matched my leather jacket. I certainly didn’t look like a loiterer.

  “I’m waiting on the nurse. I’m not hurting anyone,” I lied.

  He shook his head and unsnapped the strap on his Taser holster. “This is a children’s hospital, not a free-loader flop house.”

  “Seriously?”

  The guard pulled out his Taser, and I jumped up, my hands held out to stop him.

  “Look, no need to get physical, I’ll go.”

  “Damn straight, you’ll go,” he said, charging the Taser.

  I studied his body language and looked into his eyes. He was going to zap me no matter what I said. I held my hands up in surrender and backed up toward the door. He followed me. “Look, man. I don’t want any trouble. I was just leaving.”

  I heard an ambulance pull up to the receiving dock and several nurses rushed out to meet it. As they brought the gurney in with a young patient on it, things got chaotic and I used that opportunity to slip out.

  I walked around the ER and up the incline to the main hospital entrance. It was almost one in the morning and the front doors were unlocked. I walked in and the first thing I noticed was a very overweight guard sleeping behind the visitor’s desk, snoring loudly. I walked through the lobby and down the hall to the main elevators. Despite the late hour, there were people walking the halls and waiting on the elevators. The cafeteria seemed to be the destination of most of the employees. The food court was closed, but the vending machines were available. I saw two women dressed in scrubs sitting at a table talking, so I joined them.

  “Excuse me,” I said as I sat down. “Do you work here?”

  “Yes, we’re nurses,” one of the women replied. “Can we help you?”

  “I don’t usually work this late at night, and I was just concerned about the security around here.”

  “What security?” the other woman quipped.

  “It does seem to be lacking, doesn’t it?” I said.

  “Try non-existent,” she added.

  “What needs to be done to make it safer at night?” I asked.

  “Well, they can get rid of Barney Fife at the front desk. His snoring is so loud that it’s just embarrassing,” the first nurse said.

  Her friend shook her head. “That’s another thing. They don’t patrol, inside or out. In fact, they never budge from their seats at all.”

  “And don’t even think of asking one of them to escort you to your car when it’s dark. They’re either afraid of the dark or just too lazy to get up.”

  “Do you mean that every one of the officers are that way?” I challenged.

  “Yeah, pretty much,” the brash one answered.

  “Now come on, Betty,” the first nurse said. “The dayshift has some good ones. I worked the dayshift last week and a very nice lady guard, I think her name was Dorey, chased me down to return my debit card. I had left it in the ATM machine.”

  “Oh, I thought we were just talking about the nightshift, Tina,” Betty said. “There’s a really handsome guard, Josh, I think his name is, who’s always patrolling. When I was on dayshift, I saw him walk through the unit two or three times.”

  “Have either of you worked in the ER?” I asked.

  “No, but the rumor is that the guy in there tonight bangs every nurse who lets him,” Betty said.

  “Yeah, and I heard he’s got a fetish for his Taser,” Tina added with a laugh.

  “Probably the only way he could get it up,” Betty quipped.

  The nurses had to get back to work, so I thank
ed them for their time and stayed in the cafeteria a while longer. I watched employees come and go, pondering what my plan of action would be. The first thing that came to mind was firing the guard in the ER.

  ***

  The security department was on a twelve-hour rotation, 7AM to 7PM. The nightshift was giving report in the conference room adjoined to the security office when I walked in Monday morning, nervous and not completely confident. Back in Houston, I had been studying for the Lieutenant’s Exam, watching and listening to everything my captain said and did. He was a very good leader, and I wanted to emulate him as much as possible at the hospital because I was feeling a bit overwhelmed. Wearing a light blue tank top under a gray blazer and my favorite high heel ankle boots, I had my short, curly brown hair combed back and my game face on.

  The guard from the ER stared at me as I walked through the door, and I could tell he was trying to remember where he’d seen me before. I met his eyes and winked.

  One guard was doing a sugar stick test like my father had to do every morning before he died. The female guard was showing a picture on her cellphone to a chubby man who looked half awake. That was the same guard I saw sleeping on duty at the visitor’s desk

  “Listen up,” I said, startling a few of them. “My name is Casey Dennis. I’m your new chief and that’s how I prefer to be addressed.”

  “You’re what?” the Taser fetish guard asked.

  I stared at him steadfastly as his face paled and his eyes twitched. On the inside – sweet satisfaction at seeing the asshole squirm.

  “I’m so sorry I’m late—” An older lady burst into the conference room. She stopped short when she saw me standing at the head of the table. “I’m sorry, who are you?” she asked.

  “Had you been here on time,” I retorted, purposely sounding harsh, “you would know that I’m your new boss.”

  “You’re Casey Dennis? I thought Casey was a man’s name,” she said. Blushing, she laughed. “Oops.”

  It both annoyed and impressed me that she ignored my snipe. “And you must be the office coordinator, Michele Michaels?” Her name plate was on the desk at the entrance to the office. Michele reminded me of a woman in her twenties, but her short, auburn hair had brown roots, with a few gray hairs, and her shoulders had begun to stoop just a little, although that may have been more her pudginess than her age. Based on that, I would say she was in her late fifties. Her hazel eyes were light and confident, and she had a large smile that had me struggling not to smile back. She nodded, and I handed her a single sheet of paper I had typed my plan of action on last night. “Would you please make everyone a copy of this?”

  “Sure, just take me a minute,” she replied and walked out of the room with a bounce. She was far too chipper in the morning for me.

  “While we wait on Ms. Michaels, why don’t you go around the table and introduce yourselves.”

  There were only five of them in the room, two of them from the nightshift that I knew of. I wondered if that was the norm, because if so, it was completely unacceptable.

  “Josh Hamilton, good to meet you, Chief.” He was sitting directly in front of me and stood up to shake my hand. I don’t think he meant to be so forceful, but his grip was clenched so tight around my hand that I thought he was going to break it. Though it wasn’t easy, I managed to keep from grimacing from the pain.

  As Josh sat down, the next one stood up. “Doris Davis, but everyone calls me Dorey. I’m glad you’re here, Chief.”

  “And why is that, Ms. Davis?” I asked curiously, appreciating her pristine uniform where even her badge was perfectly aligned over her pocket.

  “Because, we… this department, needs a leader. We tend to get, um, distracted otherwise,” she said, keeping her eyes trained on me.

  “I’m glad you recognize that,” I replied, shaking her hand. She sat down and I nodded at the next man, the one who used the ER as his personal harem.

  “Byron Becker,” he said disdainfully, not bothering to stand.

  “Mr. Becker, you work the ER, is that correct?” I asked.

  “Yes, ma’am.” He looked like a deer caught in the headlights. As well he should. But I would wait and speak with him privately. I glanced over to the next man sitting at the table. He started to get up, but I waved him down.

  “Barney Johnson, ma’am. I work the nightshift.”

  “Yes, I’ve seen you at work,” I replied cryptically.

  And finally, the last man jumped up and stood at attention. His back rigidly straight, his hands curled at his side. “Lucas Jurado, ma’am.”

  “I haven’t had a chance to read everyone’s profile yet. Mr. Jurado, were you in the military, by any chance?”

  “Petty Officer First Class Boatswain's Mate, ma’am.”

  “At ease, Boats. I won’t be that formal.”

  He smiled and nodded, pleased that I knew the Navy nickname for his rank, then he sat down. My father was Navy and, growing up, he would assign me chores by using navel terminology and calling me by a navel rank suited to the activity. My favorite was always Boats, because that meant we were going fishing, although sometimes it meant that I had to swab the decks, also known as mopping the floors. My dad was tough, and he raised me to be tough, but he loved me, and was good to me. I miss him. I’d give anything to talk to him about what happened in Houston, but he died of a heart attack two years ago. Shake it off and concentrate, damn it.

  “How many of you work the nightshift?” I asked, counting only two hands held in the air.

  Michele walked back in and proceeded to hand out a sheet of paper to each one.

  “All right. It’s nice to meet everyone. I have been hired to clean up this department and secure this hospital,” I said as they looked over the paper. “Starting today, there are going to be some drastic changes.”

  They scanned through my plan, some nodding, some scoffing, and Byron asked, “Change how?”

  Apparently, he was too lazy to read, but I answered him anyway. “Several ways. The schedule will rotate on a monthly basis. Those on nightshift will work days, and vice versa. And now that I know how top-heavy dayshift is, that will change also. Another change will begin next week. I plan to conduct a training class every morning during shift report. If you want to keep your job, you must learn how to do it, and that doesn’t include sleeping on the job or using it for sex.” Everyone’s head turned to Byron and Barney. “Ms. Michaels, I will need you to take notes at every meeting and have them transcribed and on my desk by the end of the day.”

  “Yes, Chief,” she said.

  “Now, I know that we are understaffed and you all have been doing double duty. Over the next several months, I will be hiring more recruits and that should alleviate your workload considerably. With that said, you will have ninety days to prove to me that you’re worth keeping. At the end of those ninety days, you will be evaluated, and either given a raise for your hard work, or you will be relieved of duty.” I had given them the exact same spiel that my captain gave us when he took over. It had worked for him; I hoped it would work the same for me.

  “Relieved of duty? Do you mean like fired or something?” Byron asked, shifting in his seat.

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I mean. Our job, our sole purpose here, is to protect the defenseless women and children in this hospital at all cost. If I don’t think you’re capable of doing that, I do not want you on my team. Simple as that. Everyone understand?” They either nodded or said yes, but there didn’t seem to be a lot of enthusiasm behind it. “Good. That’s it for today. I’ll have more for you tomorrow. Thank you for your time, and I look forward to working with you as a team.”

  They nodded and stood up. I shook their hands as they filed out. Several of them welcomed me and assured me they looked forward to working with me also. I hoped they still felt that way in ninety days. When Byron Becker stepped up, I did not shake his hand, but asked him to hang around for just a second. After everyone filed out, I shut the door to the conference room
and indicated for Byron to take his seat.

  “Is this about the other night?” he asked before I had even sat down.

  “Yes, it is. Tell me why you were so eager to attack me when I told you that I was waiting on the nurse?”

  He cleared his throat and met my eyes. “Because the nurse said that you didn’t come in with anyone and you looked suspicious to her.”

  “Like I said, I was waiting to see her. I didn’t say it was because I was with someone. I’m a woman, and this is a women’s hospital. Yet you automatically pulled your Taser and threatened me with bodily harm.”

  “No, of course I wasn’t going to actually do it.”

  “Something’s been bothering me about that whole incident,” I said, standing up and pacing for a moment. “Does the hospital, a place of healing, sanction the use of extreme force on women?”

  He looked confused. “Uh, no, of course not.”

  “That Taser isn’t hospital property, is it? You bought it, didn’t you?” He sat back and nodded. “Tell me why I shouldn’t fire your ass right now?” I could feel my face flush with anger, and I had to concentrate to keep my focus. I really wanted him to quit, but if he wouldn’t, then I would give him a second chance, if only to show the others that I’m willing to try.

  He sat forward in the chair and stared at me for a moment, his eyes swirling with indecision. “I need this job,” he said. “No, look. I was wrong. I can admit that. But you have to understand, we get all kinds in that ER, drug addicts looking to score, crazy bitches, uh, I mean women who need psych help. One time, we even had a lady come in and try to steal a baby.”

  I looked at him questioningly. “And you thought that I fit into one of those categories?”

  “Hell, no!” he exclaimed, then his mouth gaped open.

  I had him trapped. He just admitted that I didn’t, and yet he had treated me like some kind of dangerous pervert. “Okay, here’s the deal. I’ll let you quit gracefully now, or you can take your chances with my evaluation in ninety days. If you choose to stay, you will turn in your Taser right now, and go on dayshift, where I will watch you like a hawk to make sure you keep your dick in your pants. So, what will it be?”