Hector paced the cubicle as a splash of summer dusk leeched across the sky outside the tall-set rectangle window above Devi's bed, like paint from a brush in a fresh pot of water. The orange, fuschia, and purple hues draped the cubicle in its soothing light and doused the woman asleep on the bed in its divine light. Devi. She looked nice enough like that but he knew, didn't he? She was a firecracker when her eyes opened and her mouth never shut. He groaned inwardly. This woman had to land on his lap, didn't she? Why couldn't she have washed up on a different shore, in a different town, then his life wouldn't have turned upside down, nor would he be waiting out Brady Moriarty like those city cops in shows waiting out a rat from its hold.

But then again, he would have been sitting in the beat, watching reruns of Friends, and eating crappy pizza and cold coffee, wishing there was more action for a young cop in the town other than threatening to give fines for public urination to Grumpy Gavin or hauling half-drunk teens back to their Mamas and Papas. Beggars can't be choosers, he recalled his father's favourite line growing up, and he supposed, even in death, the old man was right. A case was a case, was a case, no matter what kind.

Hilde, who sat cocooned in the only chair in the cubicle, with her head on her chin, her eyes closed, resting, woke up when her head wobbled and slipped off its perch. "What time is it?" she asked, smacking her dry mouth and swiping the drool from the corner of her mouth. She looked cute, cuter than the other woman asleep like a beached whale on the hospital bed, her breathing laboured.

"Almost nine." He tried not to gawk as Hilde sat up straight, stretched her torso, and then glided towards the bed to check on her patient, her butt perky in her doctor's scrubs.

"How long has she been like this?" she asked, taking out a digital thermometer from her pocket and placing it on Devi's forehead.

"An hour, maybe. Why?" Hector stopped pacing at the foot of the bed.

"She's running a high fever." Hilde turned. "You should have woken me."

Hector eyed the chair Hilde had occupied a moment earlier. But you looked so cute...

"I'll get some more antibiotics and morphine, and pack some more saline for you to use overnight ... to bring her temperature down." Hilde cleared her throat and walked towards the small medicine cupboard out the back. "And I was thinking ... She's probably right. She's not safe here, in a public space, sort to speak. So, if you're okay with her plan"—she reappeared in the ward with some vials of medicine and a syringe in her hand, blushing a little— "then I'll get to check her progress and she won't feel so exposed. Often, a patient's mental health is crucial in their recovery ... if we can even move her, that is..."

"I'm fine with it." Hector looked uncomfortably at Devi rather than meet Hilde's eyes. It was hard enough to admit Devi was right about her situation, but to know she was right about his feelings for the doctor? No. That was too embarrassing. As embarrassing as it was going to be to ask Hilde out in public, and make it look natural and not rehearsed. I want to ask her out, but not like this...

"Also, I kind of cobbled up a plan to get her out of here, right past Brady, and not get caught, while you were sleeping. Hopefully it will work." He watched her give her patient a small bevy of medicine and antibiotics. "Wanna hear it so you can tell me how stupid it sounds?" He glanced at Devi, covered in sheen of sweat, and felt sorry for the woman. She'd tell me it's stupid...

Hilde held up a hand—one minute—and listened to Devi's laboured breathing with her stethoscope. Once she was done, she slung the device back around her neck and gave Hector all her attention. "Let's hear it then."

Hector resumed his pacing once more, relaying the dumbest idea he's ever had on how to get a conspicuous patient out of the hospital in the most absurd way. When he finished telling Hilde his 'plan' he stopped pacing and stared at her with batted breaths. Any moment now she was going to burst out laughing. Any moment now ...

Instead, Hilde bit down on her bottom lip and stared off into the middle distance as if she was seriously pondering the possibility. It made Hector's heart jump a little. Had he finally done it? Come up with a sound plan.

"It could work." Hilde stifled a yawn and her eyes sparkled. "Go see if he's still there, Hector. I got her."

"What?" he blurted.

"I think it could work." Hilde smiled. "In fact, I think it's a brilliant plan."

"Did you hit your head or something on the chair?" Hector eyed Hilde, baffled, and then looked to Devi. "And what about her? She might not like this."

Hilde glanced at her patient too. "She's in no position to vote. She wants safety; we'll get her to safety. How we do that, is our prerogative. Now, go. Check if he's out there for your plan to work."

Thus Hector nodded and walked away at a brisk pace, trying to squash a yawn himself. How had a simple day turned so complicated? What should have taken him an hour or two had turned into a siege and now he was going down to the gates hoping to still see the enemy at the gates, or his plan simply wouldn't work.

Hector approached the dark nurse's station, peering out into the quiet street. Seems it's only Hilde, and I left ... He walked out into the balmy westerly breeze and took a deep breath, eyeing the quiet country road ahead of him. What few shops they had, had all closed for the day, and an eerie silence hugged the street.

"You're still alive?" A puff of smoke curled in the darkening air beside Hector, who hadn't realised Lewis was still hanging around tonight.

"What?" Hector tried not to scrunch his nose. The smell of cigarettes often reminded him of his father, locked up in his study, staring at the blank page, smoke curling around him like a thick fog. How the man lived to be in his mid-seventies until he succumbed to health issues was still a mystery to him. But despite his father's failings—in many things fatherly—the man had taught his son well to not adopt his vices.

The taste of smoke and bitterness lingered in his memory even now, taking Hector back to his ten-year-old self when his dad had caught him red-handed, trying to steal a cigarette out of the stash hidden in the desk, in the study.

"Here!" his dad had said, passing him a lit cigarette as they watched the sun set from their back patio, staring at the few cows lolling about in the grass beyond the house. The man had sat him down beside him on the steps, father and son, one lit cigarette in hand, each. His father had put the cigarette to his lips and shown Hector how to smoke it. "Pull it in, deep."

Hector, naïve little Hector, had done just that, only to splutter as the smoke filled his lungs and his nostrils, causing him to violently cough with each puff of smoke.

His father hadn't let him leave until Hector had finished the entire cigarette, red in the face from coughing, uncomfortable to say the least. After which, his father's words had been, "There. Your curiosity is satiated" —not that young Hector understood what that word meant, and asked his mother later for the meaning, a mother who disapproved her son smelling like a smoking hoon adequately before relaying the meaning. "You will not touch a cigarette again in your life. Remember that uncomfortable feeling in your chest and nose, that burn, and ashy taste in your mouth. This thing, it's not suave, or sexy. This thing kills, son. Hope you'll remember that from now."

And boy did Hector remember that till now. He tried to wash the memory of ash from his tongue and followed Lewis' gaze across the road to one of three cars still parked in sight. "Where's Brady?"

Lewis jutted his chin towards a car parked across the street. "He hasn't moved since the afternoon."

"What do you think he's doing?" Hector rubbed the back of his stiff neck. He was ready to hit the hay if only he could.

"Most likely sleeping?" Lewis stubbed the half-finished cigarette on the brick wall behind them, placed it on his ear like a carpenter's pencil, and then waved at the car with his freed hand. "See, nothing."

Hector looked up at the tall man beside him, twice his size in girth. "You really think he's asleep?"

"Only one way to find out." Lewis' eyes twinkled with mischief, and half a minute later, Hector found himself behind Lewis's colossal frame, twinkle-towing across the road towards Brady's car, only to find the man in question fast asleep. Head rested on the window sill, mouth open, inviting insects to take a peek, and occasional purrs of snore snorting out of him. Drool had been dribbling down his mouth, staining his previously pristine pressed shirt by now.

"Whatever you gotta do, you better do it now, Heck," Lewis advised, "before Brady wakes up and catches you red-handed."

It was an absurd idea, that Hector, the inspector, should worry about being caught red-handed by a journalist. "Great idea."

Hector bustled back into the hospital and burst into the cubicle. "If we're doing this, we have to do it now."

"Do what?" Devi blinked at him, having just woken up from her fever nap.

Shit.

"Move you," Hilde volunteered.

"And what about that guy?" Devi asked. "Is he still around?"

"He is, but he's asleep." Hector smiled tight-lipped.

"So we should go ahead with your plan?" Hilde's brows quirked in question.

Hector nodded. "We'll have to wake him for it to work."

"What the hell is going on?" Devi peered from one to another.

"We have a plan to get you out of here and you're probably not going to like it." Hilde turned and addressed Devi matter of fact.

"What's the plan?" Devi sounded dubious, as she should be, because minutes later, not only did she realise how crazy the inspector was, but just how crazy his Juliet was too.

While one wheeled in what looked like an autopsy gurney, another fetched something that looked like the largest garbage bag Devi had ever seen. She knew what it was too, that was the worst part. "A body bag? What are you going to do with that? Kill me?"

Hector hated that there was a hint of genuine terror in the woman's voice. He held up the bag and said, "We need you to play dead."

"Excuse me?"

"We need you to play dead, Devi," Hilde repeated Hector's words. "We figured it'd be easier to take you out of the hospital in a body bag than a wheelbarrow. We can simply tell Brady that you didn't make it—"

A wide grin splayed on Devi's lips as she interrupted the doctor, "If he thinks I'm dead, he won't be after my story anymore. That's a fucking brilliant idea, doc."

"It was actually Hector's." Hilde blushed, while Hector looked offended.

"Well, what do you know? The boy's got some brains after all." Devi's eyes sparkled. "Let's do it. Bag me, doctor."

While Hector and Hilde prepared their patient's transport in a body bag, upon a rickety old gurney, they tasked Lewis with bringing the hospital ambulance out the front so they could 'load the deceased'. They planned to make enough of a ruckus to wake Brady up, and have him witness the removal of the body so he could finally print his damn story. An unknown woman washed ashore, died tragically, and they have shipped her body to the nearest town for an autopsy they aren't equipped to handle. Case closed.

And at the end of the day, or rather the dark hours of the night, that was what transpired in that tiny little hospital. Devi Dhungel was placed in a body bag with a small cylinder of oxygen tucked into the side of her body so she could breathe. The doctor had been reluctant to take off the IV drips and monitor leads but eventually agreed that they could not pack all those things in with Devi in the bag. Not if they truly wanted Brady to buy their farce.

The duo, Hector and Hilde, rolled the jaunty gurney out of the hospital in the middle of the night, being as loud as possible.

Lewis jumped out of the ambulance's driver seat and slammed the door as hard as he could before rushing to open the doors for the duo wheeling the 'body' out.

"Oh, watch it!" Hilde shrilled as the gurney rattled along the sidewalk, later eyeing Brady's car.

"Careful!" Hector yelled at the top of his lungs to ensure Brady could hear him. All the while he was pretty sure the lump in his throat was his heart, trying to escape his body. What if this doesn't work?

"Ow!" Devi at one point pipped as the gurney jostled from the sidewalk and onto the road.

"Shush!" Hector eyed Brady's car nervously.

In fact, for a moment, they all stood stock still and eyed the actionless car—except Devi, of course, who was stuck in the dark hold of the suffocating plastic bag and could not see a damn thing.

"Fuck, the man sleeps deep!" Lewis mumbled.

Hector gritted his teeth. "We need him to see this."

"I got you!" Lewis thumped his back and the sweat he'd been shedding made Hector's shirt cling to him like a saran wrap. "Oh, this is so SO SAD! THE POOR, POOR WOMAN ... DYING IN AN UNKNOWN PLACE ... ALL ALONE."

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"Waking up the sleeping beauty." Lewis nodded towards Brady's car, where he finally stirred awake and wiped the drool off the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, thank god." Hilde breathed. "Let's try to get Devi in before he runs over and unzips the whole thing ..."

"One, two, three ..." Lewis counted as he jumped into the back of the van and hoisted the gurney up.

"Ow!" Devi squeaked again, just as Brady ran towards them, tidying up his hair.

"Ow!" Hilde rubbed her hand as if she was in pain, to cover for Devi, and turned to the reporter. "Brady, what are you doing here at this hour?"

Hector felt his arms go weak, and he nearly lost his grip on the end of the gurney he was still holding up while Lewis secured it.

Brady peered into the van, at the body bag with curiosity, scratching his jaw. "What's going on, doc? Who died?"

Hector couldn't swallow the lump in his throat. He turned to Lewis with a wild look on his face, and Lewis eased the rest of the gurney into the van and secured it on the floor, mouthing, "Relax, Heck."

"The woman," Hilde said behind Hector while all Hector could do was pray Brady would go away now.

"The woman from the beach?" Brady Moriarty sounded shocked as hell.

"The same." Hilde glanced at the bag.

Lewis, still inside the van moved towards the light and jumped off the vehicle. "Poor woman, to die alone among strangers ..."

Brady peered at Hector then. Hector tried to smile, but nausea built up behind his chest. "She's really dead?"

Hector swallowed the bile and nodded, afraid if he talked, confess would tumble out like overstuffed suitcase.

"How?" Brady turned to the doctor. "Yesterday, she seemed fine when I saw her."

All three of them shook their heads.

"Don't know ... sometimes, they look like they are recovering only to crash again. She had a lot of injuries ... surprised she even made it to our shores." Hilde cleared her throat and finally looked up. "Only an autopsy will tell us what actually happened now."

"That could take ages ..." Brady mumbled and Hector could read his expression like he could read the land. The man was disappointed. Not so much at the 'death' but the fact that he'd lost his story. "Any idea who the woman was? Heck said she was someone famous..."

Lewis threw Hector a look.

Hector felt heat rise to his cheeks, scorching hot. "I–I never said that."

"Maybe what he meant was to say, she will be famous, because of all this ..." Lewis chuckled, thumping Hector's back, causing him to have a coughing fit. "Get it together man," he whispered beneath his breath as Hector hacked up his chest.

"That's too bad. It would have been nice to tell her horrid tale of survival through my words." Brady ran a hand through his rumpled hair. "Anyway can I grab a photo of her, doc? We can use it to find out who she is. Spread the word ... Find her next of kin."

It was Hilde's turn to look shell-shocked. This wasn't how things had meant to go. Brady wakes up and catches them moving a body, yes. Brady even demands to see the dead woman's face, yes. But taking her picture? That was a no-no.

"I can't allow that, Brady ..." Hector stepped up, his mind scrambling for an excuse. "Not without running it past the Chief. He might just pass her onto other districts ... with more manpower and stuff ..." and stuff? Hector accidentally bit down on his tongue, afraid to make up more stuff. He could soon taste blood. Ow...

"Sorry, Brady, we know how much you wanted her story." Hilde grabbed a door panel and started closing the van. Lewis took up her signal and closed the other panel, much to Devi's relief inside that body bag. Not when she was as claustrophobic as they come and still hated the pitch black of the night, just as she had when she was a kid. Her heart rate was spiking at the moment, and the poor woman was fast using up her small supply of oxygen.

"If you'll excuse us, I have to get the body to the cold storage before it goes bad ..." Hector rushed for the driver's seat, itching to get away from Brady.

And that was how it was done. Jittery as a nervous teen, Hector jumped in the driver's seat, turned the engine on, and floored it. Without a fucking thought!

He eyed the three gawking at him in the rear-view mirror. The man did not know where he was going, for Devi Dhungel was neither dead, nor was she being taken to the nearest morgue two hundred kilometres away, and neither was he meant to head off alone.

But no. He hadn't waited for Hilde or Lewis to jump into the van before flooring it, had he?

Shit, where am I going?