Interwined

Chapter Six

Jazzy stepped into the room 106, a patient by the name of Edna Peterson lay with her attention drawn toward the tv. There was a cooking show on, and the old woman stared longingly at the pictures.

"Getting tired of hospital food?" Jazzy asked with a soft tone. She gave a genuine looking smile in the old woman's direction, tucking her hair into a tight bun so that it didn't get in her way. She grabbed a small plastic cup filled with an assortment of pills and began pouring some apple juice into another slightly larger plastic cup. Edna smiled, her heads uncontrollable shaking catching Jazzy's eyes. Edna wouldn't have much longer until her poor health and old age would suck all life from her.

"I used to look like that," the old lady reminisced, a hint of sadness settling in her aged features. Jazzy turned her attention toward the thinnish brunette on the screen.

"You were a brunette?"

"Dirty blond, actually. I had the same build though. I once had boys practically throwing themselves at me. Now look at me; a wrinkled old woman who lays in a hospital bed waiting to die. No children to come and take care of her." The smile on Edna's face quickly faded, Jazzy nodded slowly and cleared her throat. Holding out the cups she instructed the elderly woman to take her pills and gave her a kind kiss on her forehead. Edna was one of the only people Jazzy looked forward to in this stinking hospital. She watched Edna take her medication, and took the cups from her and tossed them out. She bid her a good day knowing that Edna  would soon be asleep.

Pushing her cart out of the room, she closed the curtain behind her and then checked her list.

Doe, Jane.                      Room 108

Found on the dock, suffering from multiple abrasions, bruised rib, sprained ankle and a mild concussion.

Medicine prescribed: Naproxen 60 mg.

Stay with patient for no less than 15 minutes and monitor for signs of allergic reaction.

Jazzy read the instructions carefully, a strange feeling at the pit of her stomach. The description, it sounded a lot like her. That was impossible, though. She had hit her with her car and they threw her in the lake. Unless she had been helped there was no way she would have survived. Unless they had been followed, but Jazzy was sure they weren't. Hannah was dead, and not coming back.

Why was this eerie feeling lingering?

All color drained from her face as the possibility of Hannah's possible survival hit her like a freight train. She had to admit that killing Hannah hurt her, but orders were orders. Hannah had to go.

"Hey Jazzy!" Dee greeted, making Jazzy's head snap up. "You look like you've seen a ghost, what's wrong?"

"Er... It's this Jane Doe. My friend Hannah went missing last night. She's been acting down lately, and she can't swim. Did you see what she looked like?" Jazzy pretended to be worried, though in reality any type of worry she had was for another reason entirely. Dee frowned with her and placed her hand on Jazzy's shoulder.

"Oh honey, I'm so sorry. She's pretty young, though. Around your age I think, maybe a year or two older. She has strawberry blonde hair, she's athletic looking, probably does a lot of cardio." Dee described. Jazzy's eyes widened. It sounded like her, but she had to be sure.

"Did she have a necklace?" Jazzy pressed. That was one feature that would solidify it being her.  Hannah was never seen without her necklace, she had had it ever since she was a baby. Dee shook her head, explaining that there was no necklace on her when she was found. Relief washed through her and she smiled as Dee accompanied her into the room. Oddly enough, the patient wasn't there. Dee cursed and rushed out of the room, the stale smell of the lake hung in the air. Something wasn't right, Jazzy had to tell Peter as soon as she could. Or at least before things got too out of hand. The boss would have their heads if they failed this one.