The Cop's Doc

Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Jail in British Columbia was just as horrible as jail in Québec, Jocelyne thought, as she sat in her cell. The hearing had been quick. Just minutes for the Crown Prosecutor, Zachary Finnegan, to request she be returned to Montréal forthwith. Since she had broken bond and jumped bail back home, there was no chance for it here. No one trusted her not to run.

So she was going home. Except Montréal didn't feel like home anymore. Chantale would welcome her home, of course, and her father would be cordial, but there was still Morris to deal with. Apparently he hadn't signed the divorce papers she had left for him. Why the hell not? She would never have made love with Seth if she had known she was still married. She had believed herself finally free of that nightmare, but apparently not.

Had sex, she reminded herself. People in love made love. People who... Oh, to hell with it, she was in love with Seth. She groaned, letting her head drop to her hands. There hadn't been one moment of realization, though. It had been gradual and probably inevitable, so she needed to admit how she felt. For the first time in her life she was in love and there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it. She certainly couldn't do something as crazy as ask him to wait for her while she served her prison sentence. He had made his feelings very clear yesterday, although she still puzzled about why he had been willing to let her run.

It was funny, she hadn't seriously considered the offer. She had been tired of running and the moment for her to stop had finally arrived. So she'd stopped. She'd dressed, organized her purse, and sat at the kitchen table, waiting for Colton. Her biggest regret had been not being able to say goodbye to Mac and Charley. Well, biggest regret besides not being able to explain to Seth why she had done what she had done. The note had been the greatest point of debate.

Sorry.

Such a pithy word. She could have written a novel about all the things she wanted to apologize for, but instead had settled for simplicity.

Suddenly, there was a guard at the door. "You're a doctor, right?"

"Well, not technically. They took my licence-"

"But you're a doctor."

The woman looked slightly annoyed.

"Yes, I'm a doctor."

The door unlocked and the guard indicated Jocelyne follow her. "We've got a girl in the infirmary. She's about seven months pregnant and she's been complaining all day about pain. Our doctor checked her out a couple of hours ago and said she was fine. We've paged him, but she thinks something might be wrong."

"Did the doctor do an internal exam? Did he look for signs of contractions? Has there been fluid? Bleeding? What's her blood pressure?"

The guard spared her only a glance as she led them through another set of doors. "I can't answer any of those questions. I think it's all just a big fuss, but then she started screaming about pain. She's an OxyContin addict and I know she believes if she complains enough that she'll get a fix."

"Not likely," Jocelyne muttered. "Has she done her detox?"

"Yup. They don't send us pregnant ones unless they're clean." The guard held open the door and Jocelyn stepped through.

Her stomach dropped. The young woman had dark skin, so assessing by skin colour was tough, but the lines of pain etched on her face were real. She was curled in a ball, arms wrapped tightly around her belly.