by Barbara Ebel
He signaled for Evan to turn around and they both got into the sheriff’s car.
“So there’s a 911 call this morning and nobody says a thing on the other end of a land-line phone,” Evan’s boss said. “The nearest cruiser investigates the traced call and the officer finds a woman unconscious inside. When EMS takes her to the hospital, she’s dead on arrival.”
“How old?” Evan asked.
“Twenty. But wait’ll you hear this. It’s the mayor’s daughter,” he added, making a sharp right turn.
Evan shook his head and said, “That just earned us a thick, high-profile case. So where are we headed?”
“To the house where she was found, owned by a thirty-eight year-old pharmacist named Leo Ramsey.
-----
Evan wasn’t a hunter but he never criticized the men and women in Tennessee who enjoyed the sport. Many froze and ate the venison all year long. But he acquired a bitter taste in his mouth for Mr. Ramsey when he entered the bachelor’s front door and saw a large buck’s head mounted in the foyer; that and the big room seemed overly ostentatious.
Within minutes, it became clear to the two officers there had been drinking going on the previous night for two people. A discarded wine bottle was in the trash, two wine glasses were in the bedroom, and two small glasses that smelled of liqueur were empty on the cocktail table.
Evan looked behind the bar in the great room. “Well, look what we have here,” he said as he set pill bottles on top for his boss to see. “Predator drugs: benzodiazepines, GHB, and who knows what else he has in these unlabeled bottles.”
“High end roofies,” Sheriff Alexander said, picking up one of the first bottles. “This slimy pharmacist does his work professionally and recreationally. He’s got a hell of a lot of explaining to do.”
“Looks like a clear cut DFSA which turned deadly,” Evan added.
Alexander nodded, knowing the acronym stood for drug-facilitated sexual assault.
They finished combing the large living area and the sheriff headed to the master bedroom. After finding prolific pornography in a cabinet, he ransacked the closet.
Evan searched the sparsely-furnished second bedroom; it held nothing incriminating. But, as he left, he noticed an object peeking out from under the nightstand. One of those things a baby uses, he thought, and picked it up. A pacifier.
-----
Before the pharmacy closed at 5 p.m., Evan and the sheriff made their way past the hospital entrance fountain, the information desk, and into the small drug store. They walked up to the ‘drop off’ window and asked to see the pharmacist. Leo saw them coming. He had left the sweet, young thing he had taken home the night before at his place that morning to sleep off the drugs he’d slipped her, so he assumed the cops were there to fill a prescription. Yet maybe they were there to buy condoms and Viagra for a happy night, he thought.
He guessed wrong. As he stepped up to the glass window, the handsome officer with a mustache said, “Are you Leo Ramsey?”
He had only a second to wonder about the officer’s tone of voice before Evan displayed an arrest warrant, then opened the door and read him his rights.
-----
Danny fetched two binders - the group’s minutes and shares of stock - and placed them on the conference room table as his cell phone rang. He answered and put the call on speaker phone so he could flip through the books and make sure everything was in order for the meeting.
“Hello, Danny. It’s Rachel.”
“This is a surprise,” he said. He walked over to a window and peered through the blinds wondering what she wanted.
“Aren’t you going to ask me how I am? I’m pulling some serious hours at the hospital to buy a few things for my daughter. For when I see her, that is.”
“Sounds difficult. So then, how are you?”
“I need to see my daughter. I’d like to see her this weekend.”
“You’ve changed your mind and will agree to supervised visitations?”
“Don’t jump to any conclusions that this will be a regular thing,” she said. “Let me do this one visit and we’ll see how it goes.” Rachel rolled her eyes and mumbled “If you don’t watch me like a hawk.” After all, she thought, she wasn’t the one responsible for their baby’s abuse.
“Do you have something in mind?”
“I have a boyfriend who suggested a state park called Burgess Falls. And will Sunday work?”
“I know of it,” Danny said. “As long as we meet in the afternoon.”
“Twelve o’clock okay?”
“Sure.”
“And just to forewarn you, my boyfriend is coming. I’d appreciate you not mentioning that you are there to monitor the visitation.”
“I suppose I can keep from broadcasting that,” he said. “See you in the parking lot at twelve. By the way, since you didn’t ask, Julia is now fine and growing like a healthy flower.”
She got off the phone. “Mr. Perfect Doctor,” she mumbled sarcastically.
-----
Danny’s neurosurgeon colleagues - Bruce Garner, Matthew Jacob, and Jeffrey Foord - sat around the conference room table for their monthly board meeting along with the secretary who recorded the minutes for each session. A pizza delivery person had also been by and put two pie boxes and a jug of iced tea on the sideboard.
“Let’s eat when we’re finished,” Danny said as Bruce took off his white jacket and stood at the head of the table.
“Yes, let’s get the most important part of our meeting behind us,” Bruce said. “Danny, you’ll be conducting this meeting shortly and from here on in. So first, let’s get the stock exchanges done.”
Bruce pulled the books toward him. “As planned, I’m stepping down as the major owner which I’m mentioning for clarification in the minutes. Danny will be assuming fifty-percent ownership of The Neurosurgery Group of Middle Tennessee. I will own ten percent. Matthew and Jeffrey, you will both own twenty percent. The new stock here reflects the changes, so I need everyone’s signatures.”
Danny got up and stepped away from the table so the younger doctors had more room to sign.
Jeffrey Foord hadn’t been out of training long so becoming a shareholder in a major medical group was a big deal. He nervously penned his name and smiled when he stood straight, his boyish looks highlighted even more by the one earring he wore. “Thank you so much,” he said and practically skipped back over to his chair, his sneakers giving him an extra bounce.
With more neurosurgical experience than Jeffrey, Matthew grabbed a pen and signed. He was a sports enthusiast runner with long hair and keen listening skills. “I really appreciate this,” he said. “However, I don’t only speak for myself when I say we’re going to miss you being around so much, Bruce.”
Danny signed on his new stock purchase and kept standing. “Bruce, we appreciate everything you’ve done. If it weren’t for you, this group wouldn’t exist. And it’s not just any group. We’re well-known and respected and I’m honored to take over.”
Bruce took off his glasses as if it were part of his letting go. “I’ll try to give you all business and neurosurgical advice when you need it … and if you’ll take it. Actually, you better take it,” he said, smiling. And it wasn’t often that Bruce cracked a smile.
-----
Although Danny was itching to get home to see family, he stayed for pizza at the completion of business.
“I have a list of how I’d like to divide up the majority of my patients,” Bruce said to Danny, “since I’ll only be here two days a week and very little in surgery. But I have one in particular I’d like you to take.”
“I’m listening,” Danny said, wiping his hands on a napkin.
Bruce put down a used paper plate. “Follow me. All of you follow me. We’re heading to the X-ray room.”
Like kids discovering new toys, they all followed their oldest colleague. Inside, Bruce fumbled through the X-ray bin and then clamped an MRI and arteriogram onto the viewing box.
“Danny, I just did a lumbar laminectomy on this patient. She’s still in the hospital recovering so you can go through her chart over there; her name’s Paula Branson. She’s a healthy thirty-eight-year old except that she hurt her back from too vigorous a workout at the gym. The neurologist who referred her to us also did imaging of her head because she’d been complaining of new-onset headaches. He wanted to make sure there wasn’t an intracranial problem before one of us recommended and did her decompression surgery.”
“I don’t see anything in particular on this MRI,” Matthew said.
Danny looked at Jeffrey. “Me neither,” he said with his distinctive deep voice.
Bruce studied their faces. His graying hair shined from light bouncing off of the illuminator.
At first, Danny squinted his eyes but then he widened them with surprise. “Here’s what you want to show us,” he said, pointing at the farthest picture of the angiogram. “What on earth is going on with this patient’s occipital lobe?”
“That’s what I’m hoping you’ll tell me,” Bruce said.
The younger docs squeezed in closer; Jeffrey’s high cheekbones practically touched the screen and Matthew let out a little gasp. Danny couldn’t answer Bruce’s question but spoke out loud what they were all thinking.
“We know the occipital lobes sit on the back of the brain and that it’s the posterior cerebral artery that feeds them their oxygen. We’re also aware of what that Circle of Willis artery looks like on an arteriogram. So how come this one has enough blood vessels coming off of it to supply a giraffe’s neck?”
Chapter 6
By the time Danny got home it was eight o’clock. Nancy looked up at her father while lying sideways on the couch; a teen vampire movie streamed on TV and Julia was tucked alongside her fast asleep.
“Did you have a nice day, sweetheart?” Danny asked.
“It was okay. I let Julia play in the little plastic pool.”
“I asked about you. Are you missing your older sister yet?”
“That turd?”
He reached down and picked up his toddler, who started to wake. “You wouldn’t like it if she called you that.”
“I guess,” she pouted.
“I’ll put Julia to bed.” He gave Julia a good hug as he took her up the stairs and then changed her clothes.
Casey strutted in with a sweaty gym towel wrapped around his neck. “Hey,” he said. “I’m going to go make a protein drink. Want one?”
“No. I’m going to bed after I put Julia down. Do you know where Sara is?”
“In the computer room. Between her job and working with the contractor, she has her hands full.”
Danny nodded and, since Julia was now more awake, he sat down with her in the rocking chair with a picture book. “Would you mind going for a hike on Sunday? I doubt it’s something Mary or Sara would like to do because it involves Rachel.”
“She wants to see Julia?”
“So she says.”
“Okay, but I’m going to ask a favor in return.”
“You never ask for anything. Let’s hear it.”
“I’ve alluded to it before but haven’t gotten you to take me up on it.”
“I’m waiting.”
“You’re coming with me to my gym and we’re going to get you a membership. You keep saying you run up and down the hospital stairs but that’s not good enough. If you don’t start working out at forty-eight years old, you never will.”
“Where’s the time?”
“You’ll make it. Even if it’s once or twice a week, you can swing it.”
“All right. But this isn’t a fair trade. Both things help me and I’m not paying you back.”
“Since when do we pay each other back?”
Danny took a deep breath. No use arguing about it, so he said, “By the way, I’ve got fantastic news.”
Casey smiled broadly. “Sara’s pregnant?”
“No, you’re on the wrong track. I purchased most of Bruce’s shares today. So with what I already have, I now own fifty percent of the practice, am officially president, and have the most say in the business.”
“So besides escaping death this week, you now head one of the most prestigious medical groups in Nashville.” Casey pumped his arm. “Congratulations. Now you owe us all a dinner.”
“Thanks,” Danny said, swaying Julia in the chair.
Casey left and Danny opened the book. He began reading as Julia patted her hand on top of Danny’s.
“Funny book,” she said.
“Yes, it is,” he agreed and began reading … I am Sam. Sam I am.
-----
The early morning hours had gone by without incident and Danny had even had a chance to linger and talk in bed with Sara before she, too, got up for work. Lately, her days started almost as early as his; she had to factor in extra time because her right arm cast slowed her down when getting ready. When he had rolled out of bed before her, he took a thin magic marker and came over to her side of the bed.
“I haven’t done this yet,” he said while sitting down. He scrawled the marker along the cast and wrote:
I’m praying that your arm heals as good as new. All my love, Danny.
When he finished, she tugged on his undershirt. Pulling him close, they kissed.
“Here, grab a hold of me.” Danny said and helped her up.
-----
Despite some family members having a loud conversation nearby, Danny sat off to the side of the nurses’ station a few hours later and focused on Varg Dagmar’s chart.
The case had him totally perplexed. But there is no case, he thought. The man was doing fine from his surgery and the arteriogram results demonstrating a superman’s blood supply to his left temporal lobe was a secondary find. Varg showed no adverse symptomatology from that and Danny had no reason to keep him hospitalized any longer.
He uncrossed his legs, unbuttoned his white coat, and headed down the hall with the chart. Totally engrossed in a business magazine, Mr. Dagmar didn’t see him come in the room. Mary Ann looked over from watching the local weather channel.
“There aren’t any tornadoes predicated for today, are there?” Danny asked her.
“No. But there’s a chance of thunderstorms,” she said, turning down the volume.
Danny checked Varg’s newest vital signs on the bedside clipboard and then examined him while his patient chatted the whole time.
“This technology giant’s net sales for the last fiscal year are up $213 billion,” he said pointing at an open page of the magazine. “That’s up 1.2% higher than the previous year’s period. And that’s despite the fact that one of their subsidiary acquisitions was a total loss.”
Smiling, Danny stood behind the bedside table and pulled a pen from his top pocket. “You’re as good as new,” he said. “After the nurse brings in your set of discharge instructions, why don’t the two of you go have real food somewhere?”
“If she lets me treat,” Varg replied.
Danny finished writing orders and glanced around. “So did you finish Moby Dick?”
“Good presumption. Almost. I can understand why Melville’s complexity alienated readers before his work became famous after his death.”
“But it’s not too complicated for you, is it?”
A satisfied look crept over Varg’s face. “Not in the least. I wish he had written a sequel.”
“Maybe you should do that.” Danny headed to the door. “I’ll see you in a week in my office for a postop visit.”
As Danny rounded the doorway, a nurse named Charlotte joined him to go see his next patient. “Dr. Garner told me you would be taking over Ms. Branson’s care,” she said. Although she was barely over five feet tall, she kept up with his stride and veered him into the next doorway on the right where they switched patient’s charts.
Paula Branson barely looked her thirty-eight years and - if Danny had still been in college - he would have agreed with fellow male students that she was well endowed. She
also had a very narrow waist and flat abdomen, making her chest look even bigger. It didn’t help matters that she had on her own violet pajamas instead of a hospital gown, and the top was about to pop.
“Ms. Branson, I’m Dr. Tilson.”
“Dr. Garner said you’d see me. I know about you,” she said and Danny figured he would be fending off a discussion about his tornado ride.
“They named an antibiotic after you which cured the epidemic from that awful organism last year. I can’t believe a famous doctor is taking care of me.” She flashed a seductive smile.
“It doesn’t matter who DakTilmycin is named after. The scientific and medical community worked together to track down cases and to come up with the solution. Actually, I wish we had gotten a better hold of that pandemic sooner.”
Danny gave her a weak grin as she fiddled with her sleepwear. “I suppose you need to listen to my chest,” she said, unbuttoning the top button.
“That’s okay.”
Danny noticed a pair of glasses and toiletries on the nightstand, and a robe was draped over the clock.
“Would you like me to hand you your robe? Perhaps you’re feeling chilly and would like to cover up?”
“Humph,” Paula uttered and waved away the garment when Charlotte handed it to her.
“Let’s talk about you and your back surgery,” Danny said as she nervously moved her legs around in the bed. “Do you have any numbness or tingling in your feet?”
“No.”
“Having much pain?”
“Surprisingly little.”
“Good. A physical therapist should be in this morning to formulate a recovery strategy for you. I expect that you will progress nicely.”
“I’ll get back to the gym one of these days,” she said, “but I’ll be more careful this time.”
“That’s good. I did see somewhere you had been complaining of new headaches. Are you still getting them?”
“No, not really. Just once in a while. But I never had one until this year. But not over my forehead like most women I know.” She put her hand behind her head. “When I get them, it’s just a dull ache back here.”