by Gary Birken
Morgan walked past Julia’s desk. A casual glance behind her was all she needed to confirm her suspicion that Bob was standing in his doorway watching her. To her dismay, the meeting had gone pretty much as Ben had warned her it might. The one saving grace was that she now knew that irrespective of what the facts of the Code 15s were, Bob Allenby would fight tooth and nail before allowing Dade Presbyterian to be the main attraction in some embarrassing media circus.
CHAPTER 32
The sunset flight back from Vero Beach had been a beautiful one.
After taxiing Ben’s Mooney Ovation back to his flight school, Morgan shut down the engine and slipped off her headset. From the right seat, Ben pushed open the door and climbed out onto the wing. Once he was on the tarmac, he turned to help Morgan down.
“That was a perfect hour of flying,” he told her, taking her hand and making sure she stepped down without incident.
“Except for your approach. You were at least a hundred feet high.”
He rubbed his chin. “I sometimes forget which one of us owns a flight school.”
“I have those same feelings myself every time we fly together.”
After a short grumble under his breath, he said, “Mike will tie her down. Let’s go inside.”
Walking toward the school, they continued to review each aspect of the flight. Once inside, they went straight into Ben’s office where Morgan fell into a burgundy leather chair that sat below a constellation of wall-mounted aircraft prints. Ben’s entire facility was appointed considerably nicer than any flight school she had ever been in. Between its vast size, high-end aviation artwork, and luxurious furniture, Morgan felt as if she were sitting in the private office of the Boeing Company’s CEO.
“You haven’t mentioned a word about your meeting with Bob.”
“I was waiting for the right time.”
“I assume that meant things didn’t go too well.”
“That’s not entirely true,” she said.
“What did you tell him?”
“Precisely what I told you,” she answered, knowing Ben would give her the I told you so speech.
“What was his response?”
“He made it abundantly clear that the hospital’s official report to AHCA would identify the causes of deaths but would include nothing that suggested criminal behavior may have played a role.” With a minor frown, she added, “Before I could raise an objection, the conversation shifted to my grieving process and how it was affecting my professional judgment and performance.”
Morgan felt a cramp in her left calf. She rubbed the back of her leg for a few seconds before standing up and walking around.
“I could speak to Chuck Bingham.”
“The chairman of the hospital board?” she asked, not really surprised that Ben was traveling in those circles. “I didn’t know you guys were pals.”
“Let’s just say we’ve had a long-standing business relationship.”
“I appreciate the offer, but what good would it do?”
“Chuck might feel that Bob’s a little out of line on this one. You’re the chairperson of the committee assigned to investigate Code Fifteens. This is a medical investigation. Bob can’t cover things up or style the inquiry to suit the hospital’s agenda, especially when it’s an issue of patient safety. Bob may not agree with your findings, but I don’t think he can summarily dismiss them without further investigation. I think Chuck might agree with me.”
“If you speak to Chuck, he’ll go straight to Bob, who will then say that I’m a stressed-out practitioner with a Hollywood imagination. Even if Bingham is open-minded, he’s going to give Bob the benefit of the doubt. The other downside is that now you’ve involved yourself in this mess.”
“Which I couldn’t care less about. I’m not beholden to anybody at Presby.”
“I appreciate you trying to help, but Bob will assume I put you up to it. There’s no telling what he might do.”
“It’s your call. But if you change your mind, the offer stands.”
“Thanks, but I think the way to approach this is to come up with irrefutable proof of what really happened. That’s the only way to compel Bob to be honest with the AHCA investigators. I also suspect it’s the only way we’ll ever find out who killed my father.”
“It sounds like you’re giving up on Detective Wolfe.”
“I’m not giving up, exactly; I’m just not totally relying on him.”
Morgan’s less-than-veiled implication was clear. In spite of his advice, she had no intention of giving up on her own investigation. He wouldn’t abandon his efforts to persuade her to tread carefully, but for the moment, lecturing her again about the disastrous effects her amateur inquiry might have upon her career seemed hopeless.
CHAPTER 33
DAY NINE
At eleven thirty p.m. on Friday night, Faith Russo strolled up to the registration desk of Dade Presbyterian Hospital’s emergency room.
Even though the man she knew as Steve had spent the better part of an hour prepping her, she was still more nervous than she thought she’d be.
After giving the nurse some basic information, she was told they would call her as soon as possible. She was then directed to the waiting area. In spite of her trepidation, the registration process had gone well. Her confidence strengthened, Faith took the first empty seat she saw.
Some of the people waiting to be seen paced the floor, while others had fallen asleep in their chairs. An elderly woman with a pained expression on her face pressed an icepack against her shoulder while she rocked back and forth in her seat. Every few seconds she moaned softly and shook her head.
Faith spotted a magazine on the empty seat next to her and picked it up.
She was thumbing through it for the third time when she heard her name called. As Steve had instructed, she checked her watch. It had been just under an hour since she registered.
With a noticeable limp, which she had rehearsed coming across the parking lot, she made her way over to the triage area. A nurse wearing a floral shirt greeted her and then asked her to describe the circumstances of her knee injury. Faith took her time and recounted the events of her fictional bicycle fall. When the nurse was finished entering the information on her chart, she motioned to one of the orderlies, who grabbed a wheelchair and strolled over.
The young man helped Faith into the chair and then took her straight back to examination room number seventeen, which was one of three orthopedic rooms. He wished her good luck and slid the glass door closed behind him. She had been waiting only for a few minutes when a second nurse walked in. Faith guessed she was about her own age.
“Miss Russo?” she asked with a pleasant smile.
“Yes.”
“My name’s Denise. I’ll be the nurse taking care of you. How’s your knee feeling?” she asked, walking over and taking a closer look.
“It still hurts quite a bit.”
“Your chart said you were bike riding,” Denise said, picking up the chart.
“I’m afraid so. I guess I could have used a few more lessons before going for the land speed record.”
“I ride all the time and I fell twice last week.” Denise then took Faith’s blood pressure and checked her pulse. When she was finished, she said, “The doctor should be here in a minute.”
“I hate to ask you this, but . . . do you have a female physician on duty tonight?”
“Dr. Connolly’s on. She’s also the chief of the department. She’s great. You’ll love her.” Denise grinned before adding, “I think she’s also a bike rider.”
“I know it’s a silly request—I mean, asking for a woman doctor—but I think I’d be more comfortable.”
“It’s not a problem. A lot of women do it.” Denise then whispered, “To tell you the truth, I feel the same way.”
Faith had no idea why Steve had made such a big point about telling her to request a woman doctor. She just assumed it was part of the survey. When Denise walked out of the room, Fai
th checked her watch.
Six minutes later, the glass door slid open.
“Miss Russo?” Morgan asked holding out her hand. “I’m Dr. Connolly.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Faith answered, shaking her hand.
“Tell me about your fall.”
“It was kind of stupid. I was taking a bike ride earlier this evening and fell.” She flexed her leg and rubbed her knee.
“Did you hit your head or injure any other part of your body?”
“No, just my knee.”
“Let’s have a look,” Morgan said, putting the chart on the counter.
“Sure.”
Morgan moved to the exam table and gently extended Faith’s right leg. There was no swelling or bruising of her knee. When Morgan finished her exams she said, “It really doesn’t look too bad. I think you were pretty lucky.”
“That’s good news.”
Morgan spent the next few minutes questioning Faith regarding her general health and the details of the accident. When she was finished, she pulled her stethoscope from around her neck and listened to Faith’s hearth and lungs. She then checked her other leg, her arms, and completed her exam by feeling Faith’s belly.
“How’s your tummy feel?”
“Fine.”
When Morgan was finished she stepped back and sat down on a small chair.
“Well, I don’t see any swelling of the knee and it’s not too tender to movement. It’s probably just a mild sprain. But just to be on the safe side, I think we should get an X-ray.”
Anticipating Morgan’s suggestion, Faith inquired, “Do you think that’s really necessary?”
“I’d hate to miss something,” Morgan answered.
“I just found out I’m pregnant, Dr. Connolly, and if you think it’s just a mild sprain, I’d rather skip the X-ray.”
“Have you had any vaginal bleeding or cramps since the fall?”
“No. Everything’s fine.”
“Who’s your obstetrician?”
Faith’s mind went blank. “I feel so stupid,” she said. “I just can’t think of his name right now.”
“It’s not important. We can cover your abdomen with a lead apron. There will be absolutely no risk to the baby.”
Faith paused for a moment, pretending to think about Morgan’s suggestion. “I appreciate your concern, but I’m just not comfortable, Dr. Connolly.”
“I understand. I’ll have the nurse fix you up with a knee brace. I’ll come back after it’s on to give you your discharge instructions.”
“Thanks,” she told Morgan, sitting up and moving to the end of the bed.
Faith was especially careful to make mental notes of everything that occurred. She liked Dr. Connolly, finding her attentive and caring. Overall, she was quite pleased with the care she’d received. Impressing Steve was very important to her. She wanted to make sure the report she gave him was detailed and accurate.
A few minutes later, Denise returned with a knee brace and showed Faith how to put it on. Just as she finished securing the last Velcro strap, Morgan came back in.
“Thanks,” Faith said.
“No problem,” Denise told her. “We Olympic cyclists have to stick together.” She walked over to the other side of the exam room and returned with a clipboard. “I just need you to sign here. As soon as Dr. Connolly is finished, you’re out of here.”
Morgan walked over to the examination table and checked the placement of the knee brace.
“How does it feel?”
“Pretty good,” Faith answered, counting the minutes until she could get it off.
Morgan finished writing the prescription and tore it off the pad. “Here’s something for pain. I also wrote the name of an orthopedic surgeon you can call if the pain doesn’t go away in a couple of days. If the knee starts to swell in the next twenty-four hours, you can put some ice on it.” Morgan looked up and added, “You’re sure about the X-ray?”
Faith leaned forward and rubbed her knee.
“It’s feeling much better now, Dr. Connolly. But if it’s not better in a few days, I’ll have the X-ray done. I promise.”
Morgan extended her hand, shook Faith’s, and then headed for the door.
“Call us if you need anything,” Morgan said as she walked out of the room and headed in the direction of the nursing station.
With several patients with minor complaints still to be seen, she crossed her fingers and prayed the Dade County knife and gun club would remain quiet for the rest of her shift.
Under normal circumstances, the nature of Faith Russo’s ER visit was so routine that once Morgan had moved on to her next patient, it would become one of thousands of forgettable cases. But as Morgan popped the top of her soda and took the first sip, she had no way of knowing that nothing could be further from the truth.
CHAPTER 34
With her knee brace securely in place, Faith limped out of the emergency room.
Strolling past a new parking garage under construction, she had to admit she was quite proud of herself. For someone who had never been a professional mole, she had pulled it off like a seasoned veteran. She hoped that Steve would share her enthusiasm.
She made her way down a narrow tree-lined street that ended at a gravel field, which the hospital was using as a temporary parking lot. When she had first arrived, the lot was almost filled, forcing her to park her aging Toyota Camry at the far end. Now, it was practically empty, and the thought of walking across the entire field filled her with trepidation.
Reaching down, she released the straps of the knee brace and pulled it off. There was a large metal Dumpster a few feet away. Without giving it a second thought, she tossed the annoying brace over the rim and into the container. Before starting out, she took a careful look around. When she saw nobody, she clutched her purse as if it were a diplomatic pouch and marched directly down the middle of the lot.
The area was scantily lit by two portable light towers, which were powered by a loud gasoline-driven generator. It was not until she reached the halfway point that Faith realized the farther she went, the darker it became. Her eyes darting back and forth, she made it a point not to drift off of the parking lot’s centerline. When she finally spotted her car, she heaved a breath of relief. Approaching the driver’s side door, Faith reached into her purse for her keys. It was at that moment she heard the footsteps. Her eyes shot up. About thirty feet away, she could easily make out the silhouette of a man. Given his rapid pace and the direction from which he was coming, it was obvious he had spotted her. As frightened as she was, she never took her eyes off of him. A few seconds passed, and she could see he was stocky and that he was wearing a baseball cap.
With her heart coming out of her chest, she continued to fumble for her keys. The crackle of the gravel under the man’s feet grew louder with each step he took. Fighting off the panic, she pounded her memory to recall anything of the rape awareness class that she had taken with some of the other waitresses.
She shook her purse fiercely, hoping the sound of the jingling keys would guide her hand. The man was now close enough that the dim splashes of light reflected off of his face. At that instant he smiled and waved. Placing her hand to her heart, she dropped her head and took a huge breath.
“Steve, you scared me to death. What are you doing here?” she asked.
“Waiting for you,” he answered.
She giggled. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”
“I told you we’d talk after you left the emergency room.”
“I didn’t think you meant in the middle of the night.”
He pointed in the direction of the emergency room.
“Do you see that big hospital over there? They’re paying my company a fortune for the information that’s now in that pretty little head of yours. I’m not about to let you sleep on it and forget even the slightest detail.”
“I was going to make notes as soon as I got home. Faith looked around and pretended to shiver. “Doesn
’t this place give you the creeps?”
Gideon shrugged. “I played rugby in college, competed in ten triathlons, and can bench twice my weight. Anybody who feels like messing with me is welcome to try.”
As opposed to most everything else he had ever told Faith, his assurances of his physical prowess and combative skills were quite true.
She leaned her head to the side. Hoping he had more on his mind than just business and gaining in confidence, she whispered, “I’ll make a deal with you.”
“Really?” he asked. “What kind of a deal?”
“I’ll do the interview now if you take me out for a drink afterward.”
He stroked her arm. “That sounds like an offer I’d be a fool to turn down. What time do you have to be home?”
She looked down at his hand. “I guess that depends. My babysitter’s great about staying over.”
Concealing his contempt for her promiscuous behavior, Gideon smiled and pointed to her car.
“Why don’t we dispense with our business? Then we can go have that drink to celebrate your first assignment as a covert hospital appraiser.”
Faith got in on the driver’s side, tossed her purse on the backseat, and waited for Gideon to climb in opposite her. He pushed his seat all the way back and pulled out a small notebook and a fountain pen. He then adjusted the rearview mirror, fiddling with it for a few seconds until he got it just right. Faith wondered why, but not enough to ask him.
She turned on the engine and let the air conditioner run. When she looked up, she saw him glancing out of her window. She turned, took a look as well but saw nothing.
“Let’s get started,” he said. “How did it go?”
“Fine. The registration process went well, and I saw a very nice doctor.”
“Good. What did you tell him was wrong with you?”
“Him was a her. Remember? You told me to request a woman doctor.”
He pointed at her and winked. “That’s right. I did. You have a good memory. Did you mention anything about your tummy?”
“You told me to tell the triage nurse that it hurt but not to mention it to the doctor.”