Suffer Little Children

by Freda Hansburg

  He shakes his head. “I don’t know. She told me I did.” He seems to think about it more then looks me right in the eye. “You’re my friend, right?”

  I get a tingly feeling. “Yes.”

  “Will you help me again? Like you did today when you hid the pill?”

  “Sure.” I feel more important than I have in my whole life. Alex really needs me. I did the right thing coming back, even though it meant lying to Mom and Dad. I wonder if we should cut our fingers and blood swear on it. I would if he asked.

  “And you won’t tell my mom? Or anyone?”

  “I won’t. I swear.”

  He puts out his hand. For a moment, I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do. Neither of us has a knife for a blood oath. Then I understand. I take his hand, and we shake on it. It will be our secret.

  FORTY-FOUR

  ROBIN

  ROBIN SHAMBLED INTO MOUNTAINVIEW the next morning. Ben’s confession of the affair with Gloria, that he’d fathered her child then loosed her on his unsuspecting girlfriend, had shaken Robin to her core. She’d refused to take his calls, finally turning off her phone. A sleepless night had left her exhausted.

  At least she still had her job—for the moment, at any rate. After Dr. Richman’s verbal warning, Robin didn’t dare take a personal day despite her weariness. Anyway, wallowing at home held no appeal. She needed to answer why Gloria Reyes would stop at nothing to treat the cancer her son didn’t have. Robin knew she had to make a report to child protective services and wanted more ammunition to support her concerns about Alex.

  After two cups of black coffee, Robin knocked on LaToya Johnson’s office door in the pediatric oncology unit.

  “Well, look who’s here.” LaToya leaned back in her chair and frowned, her dark eyes narrowing. “This better be about quality assurance matters because I know you’re not expecting me to share confidential patient information without a release.”

  Without an invitation, Robin slipped into the chair across the desk from LaToya. “Something fishy is going on with Alex Reyes.” She held her colleague’s gaze. “I won’t ask you to divulge privileged material, but I need you to confirm some things and help me make sense of them.”

  LaToya remained silent, twirling one of her numerous braids.

  “It’s a critical situation.” Robin leaned forward. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here.”

  She sighed. “Just what do you think you know? Off the record.”

  “Strictly off the record,” Robin agreed. “That you treated him for a malignant medulloblastoma.”

  Her colleague raised an eyebrow. “Who told you that?”

  “His mother.” Robin watched the conflicting emotions shift across the woman’s face. Surprise and wariness gave way to disgust.

  LaToya pursed her lips. “She said that?”

  Robin nodded. “Did you treat him?”

  LaToya hesitated then grimaced. “I’m only telling you for the sake of that poor kid. God knows, he’s been through enough.” She got up and closed her office door then sat and faced Robin. “He did have a brain tumor a couple of years ago, but it proved to be benign.”

  Robin feigned surprise. LaToya had put herself out on a limb, and it wouldn’t be fair to embroil her in Gloria’s current machinations. “That’s good news, then. So why...?”

  LaToya shook her head, the beads in her hair rattling. “Gloria, she wouldn’t accept the biopsy results. She insisted he had cancer. She kept coming back, claiming the kid had more and more symptoms. She brought in research, stuff she’d downloaded from the internet. She wouldn’t let it go.”

  “I see.” Robin feared she did. “What did you do?”

  “I reassured her, at first. We chalked it up to her being overly protective.” LaToya took a breath. “But she kept showing up without an appointment, demanding more tests.” She rolled her eyes. “She dragged that poor boy with her, and mind you, he did appear sickly, pale, underweight.” Her lips set in a firm line. “But no cancer. Believe me, we dotted every i and crossed every t. No one wanted a lawsuit from that bulldog.”

  “No.” Robin shook her head.

  “We had no reason to treat Alex.” LaToya spoke freely. “We gave her referrals to every specialist in the book, neurologists, gastroenterologists, child psychiatrists. Finally, we suggested she see a shrink to help her cope with the stress of having a sick kid.” LaToya punctuated “stress” with air quotation marks.

  “That sounds appropriate.” Did it ever. “Do you know if she followed up?”

  LaToya leaned across the desk, toward Robin, her husky voice dropping to a near whisper. “Between you and me? She wanted that kid to be sick.”

  Robin swallowed. “Why would she want that?” She already suspected the answer.

  LaToya gave her an appraising look. “When he got attention, she got attention.” She cocked her head. “You know what I’m saying?”

  “Attention,” Robin echoed.

  “From the doctors, the nurses. Hell, she’d have buttonholed the janitor. That lady loved the hospital. She acted like she belonged on the treatment team.” LaToya paused, watching Robin’s reaction.

  Robin recalled how Gloria had tried to cozy up to Dr. Richman when he’d found them in the supply room. Her dread for Alex Reyes mounted. “But if he seemed sick...?”LaToya broke their eye contact. “I can’t prove anything. I’m just saying.” Her eyes blazed. “We wanted her off our hands. We couldn’t do anything more for that boy or her. She needed therapy, Robin. She still does, if she’s hounding you. That woman is trouble.” Her tone took on a note of urgency. “You hear me? Stay away from her.”

  Robin nodded. “Thanks, LaToya. You’ve been a big help.”

  The nurse pointed a finger at her. “You didn’t hear this from me.”

  Robin gave a grim chuckle. “Hear what?” She glanced at her watch. “I better get back.” She smiled at LaToya. “Next lunch is on me, okay?”

  “Best believe it.” LaToya winked.

  Robin hurried back to her office, eager to get to her computer. If her hunch proved correct, it explained everything. She hoped she was wrong.

  FORTY-FIVE

  ROBIN

  ROBIN STARED AT THE description on her computer screen, which confirmed her worst fear. Alex Reyes faced a malignancy as lethal as medulloblastoma, Munchausen by proxy. In current terminology, factitious disorder imposed on another—FDIA. A peculiar and malevolent form of child abuse in which parents, usually the mother, falsify, exaggerate, or even induce symptoms in young children. Robin read, shaking her head at the monstrous things a twisted person would deliberately inflict on a child to feed their own craving for attention from medical providers.

  A deadly syndrome for the child, the mortality rate was as high as one out of three children.

  She sat back in her chair. Gloria Reyes had Munchausen’s with Alex as her proxy. She knew it. The criteria jibed with the account LaToya had given her. Alex was in peril. The opiates Gloria administered to him alone could prove fatal. With a shudder, Robin wondered what else she might resort to, with the MATCH trial closed to them.

  She knew her duty. As a nurse, she had a legal and ethical mandate to intervene and report Gloria to the child protection authorities at once.

  She pictured Alex—thin, pale, eyes dark with suffering. His image resolved into sharper focus, suddenly familiar as Ben’s face, his eyes. It amazed her that she’d failed to see the resemblance. His child’s life was at stake.

  Blindsided by a wave of emotion, Robin caught her breath. Ben had hidden his head in the sand and avoided responsibility for his own child. He’d used and deceived her. They were over. She would never trust him again. Feeling tiny and alone, she teetered at the brink of a deep, dark chasm.

  Unbidden, an image of Will Kenton appeared in her mind. She yearned to talk with him. Whether she wanted his professional validation or his shoulder to cry on hardly mattered. On impulse, she sent him a text.

  Things are weird here. Can we talk?r />
  Moments later, her phone dinged. It had to be Will.

  Her door flew open. Startled, Robin looked up as Steve strutted into her office as though it were his.

  He smirked. “I’m onto you, Robin.”

  She tried to imagine what he’d found out, but her mind had gone blank. Her phone dinged again. She glanced at it longingly but didn’t dare pick it up with Richman standing there.

  “I’ve got you nailed six ways from Sunday.” He chuckled. “To begin with, perhaps you’d like to tell me what you did with your boyfriend’s MATCH lab report. It should be in the medical records file, and we both know it isn’t there.” He took a step closer. “You filched it, didn’t you?”

  “I don’t...” It took her a moment to comprehend what Richman meant. When it hit Robin, her stomach clenched. She’d forgotten the report at Ben’s in the wake of all the drama. “I—I made a mistake, Steve. I shouldn’t have taken it out of the hospital. I’m sorry. I’ll bring it back tomorrow.”

  “No, Robin, you won’t.”

  “Should I go get it right now?” She dreaded the prospect of returning to Ben’s townhouse.

  Again, Richman wore a smug grin, milking the moment. “What I mean, Robin, is you won’t be here tomorrow.”

  She recoiled as if he’d punched her. “But...”

  “When I gave you that verbal warning, I knew you’d screw up.” He sounded triumphant.

  Robin’s face flamed. “You’re threatening to let me go over a lab report I already offered to return?”

  He sat on the corner of her desk. “I could, but there’s more.”

  Crowded by his presence, Robin cringed.

  “Do you want to tell me whose specimen you sent to the lab?”

  “I told you Ben’s. I already admitted that.” With a sinking feeling, Robin realized she’d underestimated her boss. She braced for what might come next.

  “I think you’re lying. You sent in a tissue sample for Alex Reyes, didn’t you?” He sneered. “Cousin Gloria’s little boy.”

  Robin tried to steady her breathing, on the verge of hyperventilating. “What makes you say that, Steve?” He might suspect, but he couldn’t know.

  Still perched on her desk, he leaned in, bringing his face close to hers. The citrus tang of his aftershave assaulted Robin’s nostrils, and she drew back involuntarily.

  “I told you that woman you brought into the supply room seemed familiar.” Richman tapped the side of his head, as if to underscore his mental powers. “It took a day or so, then I remembered seeing her on the pediatric unit about a year ago during a meeting with Jim Carver.” He referred to his physician counterpart. “When I got to his office, he was, shall we say, encouraging her to leave?” He shook his head. “Believe me, the woman needed plenty of encouragement. She’s obviously a troublemaker. When he finally got her out of there, Jim gave me quite an earful about Gloria Reyes, enough to make her memorable.”

  Robin grimaced. Apparently, LaToya had more discretion than her boss in the matter of patient confidentiality.

  To her relief, Richman leaned back. “When I put two and two together, I checked in with Jim, and guess what we found.” He watched for her reaction.

  “I—I wouldn’t know,” she murmured.

  “It so happened Ms. Reyes signed out her son’s tumor specimen that very Saturday she came up here with you.” He raised his eyebrows. “You sent out a FedEx delivery, yes?” He spread his hands. “That’s quite a coincidence, Robin.”

  Her heart sank. He had her.

  Richman stood, all amusement vanishing from his face. “So, you not only defied my specific order against submitting a pediatric sample to the MATCH lab. You brought that—that lunatic onto our floor.” He glared. “That makes you not only insubordinate but crazy and irresponsible, Robin.”

  Tears sprang to her eyes. She hated being one of those women who cried when she got angry. Avoiding Richman’s gaze, Robin shifted her eyes to the computer screen displaying the Munchausen by proxy criteria that fit Gloria so precisely. If only she could make Steve understand. She meant to stop Gloria, not undermine his authority. But he’d made up his mind. She doubted she could get a word out with her throat so constricted. It might as well be clogged with sawdust.

  “I want your resignation, nurse.” Richman sniffed. “Effective immediately.”

  Robin gasped. “What if I refuse to resign?” She meant it as a question, not a challenge.

  But Richman glowered, no doubt hearing it as defiance. “Then I’ll report you to the state nursing association. When they hear what you’ve done, they’ll revoke your license.” He counted her transgressions on his fingers. “Insubordination, misrepresentation, research fraud. You’ll never work as a nurse again.”

  A tear rolled down Robin’s face. He left her no choice.

  Richman straightened to his full height. “You’re out of here, right now. I’ve already notified security. They’re on their way to escort you off the premises.”

  FORTY-SIX

  ROBIN

  RAINFALL AND TEARS BLURRED the road as Robin drove home, smarting from the fresh humiliation of a security escort out of the hospital that no longer employed her. Her life lay in jagged shards. She’d blown her second chance and the most important opportunity of her career. She’d destroyed her credibility as a nurse. Maybe she would manage to keep her license by resigning. But no doubt word of the research fraud would get around the local medical community. Certainly, no one would hire her then. Her future looked bleak.

  And the man who might have offered comfort proved to be a sleaze who lied and used me.

  An angry horn blast startled her. She’d been sitting at a green light, making yet another enemy. “All right, all right.” Better get off the road before they add reckless driving to my long list of transgressions.

  Her car radio sounded a call to her cell phone. Will.

  Robin pulled over and parked, letting the engine idle. “Hi.”

  “Are you okay? Your text sounded urgent.”

  “Oh, Will. I’m not.” Her voice caught.

  “Robin, what is it? Did something happen?”

  “I—I lost my job.” A sob broke from her throat.

  “What? When?”

  “Just now. I was in the middle of getting fired when you texted me back.”

  “But why?” He sounded dumbfounded. “What’s going on?”

  She shut off the engine. Taking a breath, Robin gave him a halting account of the events leading to the present disaster.

  “Wait,” Will said as she concluded. “This Gloria’s the one with the son you were talking about in DC? The pediatric medulloblastoma?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “But you’re saying there’s no cancer.”

  “Right. Will, she’s drugging him and making him sick.”

  “Jeez. And the boy’s father is...?”

  “My—” Robin caught herself before she said boyfriend. “The man I used to be seeing.” She swallowed. “Until now.” Saying it aloud made it feel official. Saying it to Will made it bearable.

  “Ah, Robin. That sucks big time. And this guy...”

  “Ben.”

  “Does he know what Gloria’s doing to his son?”

  “He wouldn’t—” She broke off. She’d taken it for granted that Ben might not understand about Gloria’s abuse. But he wasn’t the man she believed him to be. “I don’t know.”

  “Have you notified the child protection authorities yet?”

  “No. I’m on my way home. I’ll call them when I get there.” And report Gloria. Only now she faced the question of whether she might have a duty to report Ben as well. She couldn’t imagine him committing active child abuse, but she wondered if he might deliberately look the other way, appeasing Gloria while she poisoned their son. Mr. Don’t Make Waves might be capable of that.

  “Robin?” Will interrupted her disturbing speculations. “Be careful around these people, will you?”

  These people. “I will.
”

  “And when you’re ready, come talk with me about your next job. We could use you here.”

  His words stole her breath. “You’d hire me, Will? Knowing what I’ve done?”

  “I’d hire you in a heartbeat, knowing who you are.”

  Fresh tears flooded her eyes. “I’ll come as soon as I can. My son will be here in a couple of weeks. I need to see him.” The prospect of facing Sean, telling him what had happened, overwhelmed her.

  “I understand. Stay in touch, will you?”

  “Yes.”

  “All right, then. And Robin?”

  “Yes?”

  “One more thing... you’re single now, right?”

  She laughed, which had seemed impossible minutes ago. “Right.”

  “Okay. Talk soon.”

  For a few moments, Robin sat, entertaining the hope of a future worth living. Then the present reality crashed back over her. Child protection would sort out the question of whether Ben had played any part in Alex’s abuse, but Robin needed to know the truth for herself.

  A rush of adrenaline compelled her to pull out and veer left, drawing a loud blast from the car behind her and a screech of tires from the SUV she’d cut off. She didn’t care. She had a mission. She intended to confront Ben. She wanted to watch his face as she revealed what she’d learned about Gloria—and what it had cost her. His office was less than a mile away.

  FORTY-SEVEN

  ROBIN

  “ROBIN PERRY TO SEE Ben Martin.” Robin held the receptionist’s questioning gaze. “Right away, please.”

  The receptionist studied her computer and frowned. “You’re not on the schedule. Did you have an appointment, Ms. Perry?”

  “Tell him I have to talk with him.”

  “I’m sorry, but Mr. Martin is with a client.” She gestured toward a chair. “If you’d like to wait, I’ll check with him after his meeting.”

  “It’s an emergency,” Robin snapped. “Involving his son.”