Code 15

by Gary Birken

  Instead of taking I-95, he decided to drive down A1A. His home was on Bal Harbor about a twenty-minute ride from Morgan’s condominium. Lumbering along behind a white panel truck, he thought about the evening and how well it had gone.It was nice for once not having to deal with the usual painful nonsense that accompanied a first date.

  As he pulled out and sped past the truck, he grinned inwardly. For the first time, he had more than just an inkling that Morgan’s interest in him might be more than platonic.

  CHAPTER 17

  DAY FIVE

  There were few things in the world that Morgan loved more than Limerick, her nine-month-old Irish Red and White Setter.

  Walking him at sunrise on the Hollywood Broadwalk, a two-mile-long beachfront walkway, had become an inviolate part of her schedule. Lined by a diverse group of shops, boutiques, and cafés, the Broadwalk attracted a steady stream of walkers, skateboarders, and joggers.

  Morgan had been strolling for about ten minutes when Limerick suddenly began wagging his tail wildly and yanking her forward. It took only one glimpse to understand why he was so overjoyed. With his signature grin covering his face, Kevin walked up. He caught Limerick’s front paws as he jumped up and petted his head. At the moment, Kevin was the last person she wanted to see.

  “I love this guy,” he said. He turned his gaze toward Morgan and added, “I haven’t heard from you in a while. How’s it going?”

  “How did you know I’d be here?” she asked.

  “You may be a complicated woman, but you’re a creature of habit and as predictable as the tides.” Kevin took Limerick’s leash and they started walking. Morgan said nothing. “Things are looking great,” he began with his usual inflated optimism.

  In spite of his incurable vanity, Kevin had recently attained his fortieth birthday with a minimum of emotional damage. A self-proclaimed real-estate entrepreneur with a great gift of gab, he was always in search of that life-defining deal that would make him a player. Unfortunately, he was a man who wanted all of life’s privileges but without any of the responsibilities.

  It was his promise of greatness, sapphire eyes, and pale blond hair that had originally drawn Morgan to him. An avid distance runner with the muscular legs to prove it, Kevin generally avoided the pit bull approach in his dealings with people, opting instead for more subtle methods. They had met while she was at Tampa General Hospital as an emergency medicine resident. He was a graduate student at the time in international business and there was an instant attraction and undeniable chemistry between them. They soon agreed upon an exclusive relationship and were married a year later.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked him as two teenage in-line skaters flew by.

  “Can’t a guy pay his wife a visit?”

  Seeing nothing innocent in his question, she snickered. “In case you’ve forgotten, we’ve been separated for the past six months.”

  “I thought we agreed to work on things.”

  “Work things out? Apart from a few dinners out and what they stupidly led to, I’ve barely heard from you in weeks.”

  “You’re right, but in my defense, I’ve been working like a one-armed paperhanger on a new project. I don’t want to jump the gun but it looks like this one’s going to be huge. I’m only targeting seven-figure investors, but if you’re interested, you might want to dip your toe in the shallow end.”

  “Thanks, but I think I’ve dipped my toe for the last time.” Morgan looked at him as if he were trying to sell her five times more life insurance than she needed. “Let me see,” she began slowly. “It’s baseball season, isn’t it?”

  An all-too-familiar look came to his face. “Baseball season? What’s that got to do with anything?”

  “I seem to remember that Major League Baseball is your preferred sport to bet on.”

  “C’mon, Morgan. I told you. I’m all done with that.” He held his hand over his heart, a sure sign to Morgan that he was lying.

  “Save the crap for the customers, Kevin. It demeans both of us. How much do you owe?”

  After a few seconds, his manufactured look of surprise changed to one of concession. He dropped his head.

  “I sometimes forget how sharp you are.”

  “Don’t work me. Just tell me how much you owe.”

  With a short sigh, his saccharine grin evaporated. “Eight thousand will give me some wiggle room.”

  “Wiggle room? That sounds more like a zip code. I hope you’re kidding.”

  “I wish I were,” he muttered.

  Morgan looked past him in silence. She then pointed to the railing. He followed her over.

  “I’m sorry for your trouble, Kevin, but I’m not bailing you out this time.”

  “I’m not asking for a handout, baby. I just need a bridge loan until this deal hits. As soon as it does, I’ll pay you back every nickel plus interest. This time it’s a sure thing. I wouldn’t be asking you if it weren’t.”

  She shook her head. “Don’t call me ‘baby.’ And the answer is no. I’m not bailing you out this time.”

  Kevin squatted and petted Limerick again. He couldn’t look at her at first.

  “These are serious people, Morgan,” he said without raising his eyes. “They won’t think twice about coming after me.”

  Whatever contempt and disdain she harbored for Kevin paled in comparison to the desperation in his voice and the humiliation in his eyes when he finally did look up at her.

  Gazing out at the four-footers rolling up to the beach, she said, “I’ll send you a check for two thousand. That’s all I can afford. You’ll have to find the rest on your own.”

  “I . . . I don’t know what—”

  “What happened to Gamblers Anonymous? Did you ever go?” she asked, wondering what had become of the man she’d married.

  “The last thing I need is a bunch of losers telling me how to run my life. Just because I’ve been a little unlucky lately doesn’t mean I have a gambling problem.”

  “Losers?” she said more to herself than Kevin. Convinced that any further attempts to persuade him to deal with his addiction would be futile, she stood silent.

  He leaned back against the railing. “This new deal requires that I go on an extended business trip.”

  “Is this extended trip solo or is Kim going with you?”

  “Kim?”

  She raised her hand. “Don’t even bother, Kevin. I knew about her before you moved out. I was going to ask you to give her up until I realized you were too old to grow a conscience. Is this trip really about business or are you running?”

  “Running? From what?”

  “Me, our marriage, Kim, the bookies. You tell me.”

  “I’m not running from anybody, Morgan. I told you. It’s a business trip.” Unable to maintain eye contact with her, he looked away. “I should get going.”

  “I’ve seen a lawyer,” she stated flatly.

  With a halfhearted grin, he handed the leash to Morgan. There was no surprise or anger in his voice. Only defeat. “I’m sorry I’ve disappointed you. I guess it just got too hard trying to keep up with a superstar wife.” He started to walk north but then turned back around. “I’m sorry about your father. I really tried to make the funeral, but I was right in the middle of a—”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  He nodded. “Thanks for the money. Remember, it’s just a loan. I’ll call you when I get settled.” He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his cargo pants. But instead of starting back down the Broadwalk, he just stood there.

  “Is there something else?” Morgan asked.

  “When do you think you might be able to . . .”

  “I’ll send you the check today.”

  Morgan reached down and stroked the top of Limerick’s head. Watching Kevin walk away, she wondered what could have possessed her to think he would be able to deal with her being pregnant? Starting back toward her condominium, she thought about the first time she’d met him. He was larger than life
—ready to take on the world and any challenge it tossed in his path. How could such a bright, energetic, and creative man with an absolute limitless future have become so totally lost? She couldn’t help but wonder if she was in any way responsible for his failure.

  It was an unsettling feeling, but the man she’d just spoken to was as unknown to her as any random face in the crowd. Morgan believed in the institution of marriage, but she was also a realist. If there had been a faint glimmer of saving their marriage, it was now gone. And for the first time since they had separated, the thought of divorcing Kevin was more liberating than anything else. The realization didn’t leave her despondent, nor did she feel a sense of tragedy. To the contrary, it was as if a huge burden had been lifted from her.

  CHAPTER 18

  Morgan stared down at the check she had just written to Kevin.

  Even though it had been a couple of hours since their meeting, her mind-set regarding the fate of their marriage was unchanged. Putting the check in the envelope, she made herself an irrevocable promise it would be the last one she’d ever send. When she was finished addressing it, she tossed it in her outgoing box, gathered up the stack of monthly patient complaints, and headed across the hall to the emergency department’s conference room. Of all of her administrative responsibilities, evaluating and responding to patient complaints was her least favorite. The majority were from disgruntled patients who cited lengthy wait times, indifferent ER personnel, and dissatisfaction with the doctor’s treatment plan.

  Irrespective of how frivolous they were, the administration required that all department chiefs respond to each and every complaint on a timely basis. The era of patient satisfaction, or the Ritz-Carlton approach as the doctors called it, had finally arrived at Dade Presbyterian Hospital. Morgan’s usual response was to write a sincere letter of apology, which seemed to do the trick most of the time.

  Before reading the first letter, she reached for her lukewarm can of Coke. Her queasiness had become less frequent, but she still wasn’t ready to face the day without her soda and a stack of saltines within easy reach. Morgan picked up the letter, but before she read the first word the door opened about halfway. Kendra Slater, her secretary, poked her head in. Morgan noticed she was wearing an ornate silver crucifix around her neck.

  “Don’t forget about your nine thirty meeting with the nurses,” Kendra told her. “Elena from Urgent Care has already called me twice to confirm.”

  “I won’t forget.”

  “I’ll remind you again in a half hour anyway.”

  “You’re getting a little obsessive, Kendra.”

  “Lucky for you,” she said, closing the door.

  Forgetting about the stack of correspondence in front of her, Morgan’s mind shifted to her meeting with Dana and the magnetized cross. As much as she tried to convince herself the cross was unrelated to the Code 15, she remained plagued by the strange event. She still wondered why Alison Greene’s visitor left the cross in the first place. If he knew her well enough to visit her in the hospital, wasn’t it likely he knew she was Jewish?

  Morgan’s eyes suddenly widened. Shaking her head in disbelief, she couldn’t believe it had taken her this long to connect the dots. Without stopping to gather up the patient complaints, Morgan marched out of the conference room and went straight to her office. Without stopping to check a new stack of messages on her already cluttered desk, she opened the top drawer and grabbed the cross Dana had given her.

  Speeding past Kendra, she said, “I’ll be tied up for a little while. Don’t page me unless it’s urgent.”

  CHAPTER 19

  With eleven hundred physicians on staff at Dade Presbyterian Hospital, the designated area for doctor parking in the eight-story garage was necessarily large.

  Wearing a blue blazer with a stethoscope sticking out of the waist pocket, Gideon stood at the far end of the lot gazing over the tops of the parked cars. Although he was familiar with Morgan Connolly’s teal-colored Thunderbird, it still took him ten minutes of walking up and down the rows until he spotted it parked between two towering SUVs.

  Clenched in his hand was the GPS tracking device he had purchased earlier that day from a security store in North Miami. The gentleman who waited on him was quite accommodating, taking considerable time to explain exactly where to place the device and how to monitor the vehicle’s exact whereabouts twenty-four hours a day from his laptop computer.

  He approached Morgan’s car from the front. He then took a few seconds to casually look around to make sure his actions would go unnoticed. He was just about to kneel down and attach the GPS device behind the bumper when his eye caught Morgan’s open flight case sitting on the front passenger seat. Popping out of the top of the case in clear view was a brown thermos. Gideon stared at it for a few seconds before a generous smile swept across his face. Inspiration comes in many forms, he thought to himself, and that included dumb luck.

  By no means ready to kill Morgan Connolly, he now had a very simple way of causing her an untold amount of personal terror. He kneeled down and stuck the homing device in place. Still grinning, he stood up, took one final look around, and then walked away.

  CHAPTER 20

  With the crucifix clenched firmly in her fist, Morgan exited the elevator on the tenth floor.

  Directly across from where she stood was the cardiac electrophysiology lab and the office of its director, Dr. Mira Ramon. Morgan walked through the registration area and then into the lab. In spite of its expansive size, the facility was still crowded with monitors, examination tables, and a multitude of sophisticated diagnostic instruments. Morgan looked toward the back of the lab. Seeing that Mira’s door was wide open, she marched straight back to her office. Before she could tap on the door, Mira looked up, smiled, and waved her in. Morgan had known Mira since coming to Dade Presbyterian and they had always gotten along well.

  Mira’s office was hardly a showplace. Except for a painting of Victoria Falls, the walls were bare. There was one short bookcase behind her aging wooden desk but most of its shelves had nothing more on them than a skinny layer of dust. If there was a saving grace, it was the perfectly arranged bunch of bright yellow daisies in a crystal vase that she had placed on her credenza.

  Mira closed the patient file she was reviewing. She slid her tiny reading glasses down her nose until they sat perched on the tip.

  “It’s so nice to see you, Morgan,” she said with a sympathetic smile, coming out from behind her desk. She took Morgan’s hands in hers. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m doing okay.”

  “It was a beautiful service. Your father was certainly beloved.”

  “Thank you.”

  Mira sat down on the corner of her desk. She pointed to two empty mugs. “I’m making some tea. Would you like some?”

  “No, thank you.”

  When Morgan didn’t say anything further, Mira folded her arms across her chest and said, “If you don’t mind me saying so, you look like a lady with something on her mind.”

  “I need a favor.”

  “How can I help you?”

  “I could really use a quick education on pacemakers.”

  “Why the sudden interest in pacemakers?” Mira asked.

  “It involves a recent Code Fifteen that the Patient Safety Committee is reviewing.”

  “I assume you mean the one involving the pacemaker insertion—not the open-heart case.”

  “How much do you know about the case?”

  Mira stirred her tea, the spoon tapping against the inside of the mug. “I know the basics. Her death was hardly a secret.”

  “I spoke to the physician who represents the pacemaker company. He assured me that it couldn’t have been a pacemaker problem.”

  Mira snickered and then took another bite of her Danish. “Now there’s an objective opinion if I’ve ever heard one.”

  “You obviously disagree.”

  “The woman underwent placement of a pacemaker and died several hours la
ter. I don’t think you can make a categorical statement that it’s impossible there could have been something wrong with the device. There’s always a reason why patients go into V-tach. Who ran the code?”

  “Will Balbuenas,” Morgan answered. “He and I have been over the chart so many times we could probably recite it by heart.”

  “What were the patient’s potassium and other electrolyte levels?” Mira asked.

  “All normal.”

  “What about her medication doses? Did you check them?”

  “Ten times,” Morgan answered. “Everything was right on the money.”

  “Did she have a heart attack? That can cause cardiac irritability and lead to V-tach.”

  “We ruled that out. Her EKG and cardiac enzymes were normal.”

  “Did her blood oxygen level drop right before the V-tach started?” Mira inquired.

  “Not according to the nurse who took care of her.”

  Mira tapped her fingertips together. “I haven’t reviewed the chart but it sounds to me like you’ve eliminated all the usual causes of V-tach.”

  Morgan reached into the pocket of her white coat, pulled out the cross, and held it up.

  A puzzled grin fell upon Mira’s face. “I appreciate the gesture, but I was hoping to help you without resorting to divine guidance.”

  They shared a quick laugh.

  “Miss Greene was wearing this when she arrested,” Morgan said.

  “Are you suggesting that being religious might make one more likely to develop a fatal arrhythmia?”

  “Not as a rule, but maybe in this case it did.” Morgan placed the cross on the base of Mira’s desk lamp. “The cross is a strong magnet. I remember reading somewhere that magnets are used to adjust pacemaker settings.”

  “A pacemaker can be programmed in a few different ways,” Mira explained. “Normally, it’s set in what’s called an EP mode, which means it only fires when it senses a problem with the patient’s heart rate.”

  “What kind of a problem?” Morgan asked.