by Erin Wade
“Detective Beverly Wyatt.” Beverly extended her hand to Shay.
“Mrs. Brandt is awake and able to answer your questions,” Shay informed the detective. “I think it would be best for you to wait here, David.”
“Shay, I—” David started to argue.
“She’s probably right, Dr. Brandt,” Beverly said. “Too many people in a small room can be overwhelming to victims of violent crimes.”
David scowled. “I’ll just make my rounds and talk to you later.”
“Maudine said you picked up the rape kit this morning,” Shay said, watching David head down the hall. “When will you know the results on it?”
“Four or five days,” Beverly responded.
“Why so long?”
“Our forensic lab is always backed up,” the detective explained. “I’ll try to put a rush on it, if that will help.”
“I’d really appreciate that,” Shay said. “It will help me know more about what my patient is going through.”
Shay followed the detective into Katie’s room and stood silently in the corner as Beverly sat down and questioned the victim. Katie quietly related her story, telling the detective that her husband had beaten and raped her.
Beverly frowned as she recorded Katie’s statement. “I’ve picked you up on several occasions,” Beverly noted. “You’ve never been injured before. What was different about this time? Why would Dr. Brandt hurt you?”
“I told him I wanted a divorce,” Katie muttered.
Beverly raised a brow. “And you say he raped you?”
“Yes,” Katie whispered.
“Do you want to file charges against him?”
Katie’s eyes darted frantically around the room. “No, but I need protection from him.”
“Then you must file charges against him,” Beverly insisted.
“The courts will let him out on bail, and he’ll kill me,” Katie blurted. “It’ll look like an accident, but he will kill me.”
Beverly glanced down at the notes in her hand, took a deep breath, and looked into Katie Brandt’s frightened eyes.
“I think you are being overly dramatic, Mrs. Brandt,” she declared.
Shay was shaken by the dismayed look on her patient’s face and the dismissive tone of Beverly Wyatt.
“Detective Wyatt, look at me!” Katie demanded. “I have several stab wounds, a badly bruised face, and a cut lip. Do I look like a woman who is safe from her abusive husband?”
“You’ll need to hire an attorney to get a restraining order.” Beverly stood. “If you’re unwilling to file charges against Dr. Brandt, there is nothing I can do.”
Tears ran down Katie’s face as she turned away from the detective.
“Mrs. Brandt, you’ll need to sign this complaint.” Beverly held the paperwork out to Katie, who sighed and shook her head in defeat.
“I’ll sign the complaint,” Shay said, stepping to the foot of the hospital bed. “As the attending physician I have personal knowledge of Mrs. Brandt’s condition. I caught her as she stumbled through the emergency room door.”
Beverly glared at Shay. “Do you really want to get involved in this mess, Dr. Copeland?”
“I really want to assure that this never happens to her again,” Shay exclaimed. “I would think you’d feel the same way.”
“Of course,” Beverly huffed. “May we do this in your office?”
Shay nodded. “Please give me a moment with my patient. I’ll meet you in the hall.”
Beverly scowled as she gathered her computer bag and purse. She stomped to the door, pulling it closed behind her.
“I won’t be gone long,” Shay assured Katie as she moved to the side of her patient’s bed. “Are you okay with me getting involved in filing the complaint?”
Katie nodded, sniffling, and Shay placed a box of tissues in her lap. “I’ll be right back.”
Chapter 3
Shay unlocked the door to her office as Beverly Wyatt ran through the facts of the case. “It’s pretty cut and dried,” Beverly concluded.
“You’ve handled Katie Brandt before?” Shay motioned for Beverly to sit down across from her as she pushed a file into her desk drawer.
“On several occasions,” Beverly said softly. “You are aware that she has been institutionalized for the past five years?”
Shay pretended to be oblivious to Katie’s mental problems. “No, I had no idea. What’s wrong with her?”
“She has been diagnosed with”—Beverly pulled a small notebook from her pocket and thumbed through the pages— “dissociative identity disorder.”
“DID,” Shay muttered. “Formerly known as multiple personality disorder.”
“So, you are familiar with the disease?”
“It’s a disorder, not a disease,” Shay clarified. “And yes, I’m familiar with it, but I’m in no way qualified to treat it. Do you know who her psychiatrist is?”
Beverly flipped a few pages of her notebook. “No, you’ll have to ask her husband.”
“That still doesn’t explain the assault on her,” Shay insisted. “She swears David tried to kill her.”
“If you’re familiar with DID,” Beverly continued, “then you know she suffers a disconnection and lack of continuity between thoughts, memories, surroundings, actions, and identity. Mrs. Brandt is a severe case. I wouldn’t put much stock in anything she says.”
“I’m fairly certain she didn’t stab herself,” Shay hissed. “And she definitely didn’t rape herself.”
Beverly shrugged. “We won’t know if that happened until we get the report back from forensics.”
“You’re wrong about that. She has all the physical trauma associated with forced intercourse.”
“But it’s still something she could have done herself,” Beverly pointed out. “Basically, if there is no semen, I’d be inclined to believe Mrs. Brandt inflicted bodily harm on herself. It wouldn’t be the first time.”
Shay stood. “You’ll let me know as soon as you receive the forensic report?”
“Of course, Doctor.” Beverly pulled a card from her pocket and handed it to Shay. “If you need me, just call. My cell phone number is on the back.”
##
Shay waited until the door closed behind Beverly before pulling a thick file marked “Katherine Brandt” from her desk drawer. She said a silent prayer for her efficient secretary.
Katie had been admitted to the hospital on several occasions during the past five years. Shay frowned as she flipped through report after report detailing Katie’s injuries. It started with a broken arm and escalated to broken ribs, broken fingers, and finally a ruptured spleen, caused by a hard blow to the abdomen.
In all cases, David had been the attending physician.
Shay scanned the reports, looking for the name of the psychiatrist who was treating Katie. She found none.
She locked the file in her drawer and walked to the hospital’s financial department. She logged onto the private computer reserved for hospital personnel.
She was shocked to see only one document under the name of Katherine Brandt.
“Is there anything I can help you with, Dr. Shay?” the assistant billing clerk asked.
“Yes. I have a patient in room 601,” Shay replied, “and I was checking to see if her information had been entered into our billing, but I don’t see it.”
“What’s the name?”
“Katherine Brandt.” Shay eyed the hospital ID the clerk wore. “I hope you can help me with this, Susan.”
Susan’s hands flew over the keys as she made several searches for the requested information. “It looks like Dr. Brandt always treated her,” she said. “I’m having trouble opening her files. Give me a minute. I’ll need to access the charges that have been written off by the hospital.”
Shay fidgeted as she waited for Susan to complete her search for the files.
“Ah, here it is.” Susan grinned. “It looks like the hospital absorbed the costs associated with Mrs. Brand
t’s stay. Um . . . she’s Dr. Brandt’s wife.”
“Are there details on what was written off?” Shay asked.
“Yes, the information is required by law,” Susan informed her. “I’ll leave you to peruse it, unless you need my help.”
Shay moved so she could see the monitor. “I think I can take it from here. Thank you so much for helping me.”
She searched through the forms and billing for several minutes before she found what she was seeking. “Glencove Hospital,” Shay said out loud printing a copy of the ambulance invoice for taking Katie to the psychiatric facility.
She was familiar with Glencove Hospital. It was a disgrace in every sense of the word. Shay was aghast that David had admitted his wife to the facility.
##
Alone in her office, Shay typed “Glencove Hospital” into the address bar at the top of the search engine. Reviews about the hospital filled her monitor screen. She scrolled through the first thirty posts by former patients.
She wasn’t surprised that all the comments were negative. Glencove had one of the worst reputations possible. She was surprised they managed to keep their doors open.
She reread some of the statements. All carried the same warning:
If you love someone, for the love of God, DO NOT bring them here. It is a literal hell on earth.
Another implored potential patients to avoid Glencove at all costs:
I beg you not to take your loved ones here. They will not receive the care or help they need. I left with the fear of going back and constant nightmares—even 10 years later.
Another described the condition of the hospital:
This place is dirty and dangerous. Right out of the late 1930s. Don’t ever place anyone in this hospital for any reason. They will violate the rights and the dignity of the patient. They are insurance fraudsters, chronic liars, and they will not let a patient go until they have drained the allowable insurance . . .
The last review Shay read only reinforced her bad feelings about the psychiatric hospital:
This is a prison, on par with those in Third World countries in terms of treatment. It is unbelievable that any hospital contracts with this institution. Who are the doctors? It’s an iffy tax setup for profit, like the detention centers created for asylum seekers in Texas. Never ever step foot in or call Glencove. Your condition, whatever it is, will be worsened.
Shay shoved the files and information into a folder, locked it in her drawer, and went to check on Katie.
##
“How’s my star patient this afternoon?” Shay smiled at Katie as she entered the hospital room.
“Much better, thanks to you,” Katie said.
“I suppose you want to know when you can go home,” Shay stated as she settled into the chair beside Katie’s bed.
“No, I’ll stay in your care as long as you want.” Katie ducked her head as a slight smile played on her lovely lips.
“Then I’ll keep you for a couple of days for observation. Are you feeling okay physically?”
Katie frowned. “Yes, and I’m fine mentally too.”
“Oh, I . . . I didn’t mean to insinuate otherwise,” Shay mumbled.
“Can you remove my IV? Maybe we could take a walk,” Katie said. “I am tired of being in this bed.”
Shay didn’t leave the job for a nurse to do. She gently removed the needle and IV line from Katie’s hand and placed a Band-Aid over the puncture wound.
“You’ll need to wear the cute little yellow, nonskid socks the hospital provided for you,” Shay teased as she located a pair in the closet.
Katie sat up on the side of the bed, and Shay slipped the socks onto her feet.
Lovely feet, Shay thought, and beautiful toenail polish.
“Just loop your arm through mine,” Shay instructed as she steadied Katie. “I’ll walk down the hall with you.”
As they stepped into the hallway, David sauntered from the elevator. “I’m so glad to see you’re up, Katie.” He smiled at his wife. “Here, let me accompany you.”
Katie physically recoiled from her husband and clung to Shay.
“It’s alright, David,” Shay said. “I want to check out her motor skills and make certain she is improving satisfactorily.”
“Are you going to release her?”
“It depends on how she does today and tonight. I am keeping her until tomorrow for sure.”
David shrugged. “I’ll leave you to it, then. If you need me, just call.”
Shay escorted Katie around the floor, talking about everything but Katie’s situation. She could tell her patient was tiring as Katie began to lean on her more.
“Let’s get you back in bed,” Shay said softly. “They’ll bring your dinner soon.”
“God knows I don’t want to miss that delicacy.” Katie laughed. “You really should take me to a decent restaurant when my doctor releases me.”
“I really should,” Shay said.
##
As Shay strolled to her office, she admitted to herself that she was exhausted. Her constant vigil over Katie was taking its toll. She had driven her personal feelings to the back of her mind. If Katie Brandt was a mental case, Shay knew she needed to take everything the woman said with a grain of salt. In her heart she knew that David Brandt wasn’t the monster his wife made him out to be.
She stopped at her secretary’s desk and picked up her messages.
“I’m going to return the calls that require my immediate attention and then call it a day,” she said wearily.
The secretary grinned at her boss. “You do look like hell. I was wondering when you’d hit the wall. You know, you need to stop taking such a personal interest in all your cases.”
Shay laughed. “Then what kind of doctor would I be?”
“I admit you are one in a million.” Kristie took the messages from Shay’s hand and looked through them. “I can handle all but these two. You get some rest. You have three surgeries tomorrow, and Dr. Adams has requested your assistance with a difficult C-section she’s performing tomorrow afternoon.”
Shay nodded and took the two notes into her office. She returned the calls and pulled her purse from her desk drawer as David entered the room.
“Oh Shay, you look tired,” David exclaimed. “Please go home and get some sleep. I’ll give the switchboard instructions to call me if there are any problems with your patients.”
“I was just leaving,” Shay explained. “I’ve got three surgeries tomorrow, so I must get a good night’s sleep and an early start.”
“Do you need me to drive you home?” David asked. “I don’t mind at all.”
“You’re very sweet,”—Shay tiptoed to kiss his cheek— “but I can make it home. It’s not that far.”
Chapter 4
The blaring siren that served as Alexa’s alarm jerked Shay from a deep sleep. “Alexa, off,” she commanded Amazon’s pride and joy.
She stretched her back and shoulders as she walked to the shower. She’d fallen into bed last night without brushing her teeth. She turned on the shower and spread toothpaste over her brush as the hot water steamed up her mirror.
She dedicated extra time to brushing her teeth, trying to make up for her former neglect, then stepped into the shower.
Shay closed her eyes and let the hot water run through her hair and down her back. It felt good. As she relaxed, Katie appeared in her mind’s eye. The petite brunette smiled and beckoned Shay to follow her. It was hard to believe that Katie Brandt had only been in Shay’s life three days.
Shay pulled her thoughts back to the present and poured shampoo into the palm of her hand. She took her time washing her hair and covering her skin with shower gel. It felt good to be clean and fragrant.
She dried her blonde hair and pulled it into a ponytail. By the time she performed surgery wearing the required surgical cap, her hair would be plastered to her head anyway.
She pulled on the waterproof boots she always wore during surgery. The operating room
could get messy with the blood, pus and amniotic fluid that often covered the floor. The boots provided protection from contamination.
Shay pulled into the doctors’ garage at the hospital as the sun’s first rays streaked over the horizon. She checked her watch to see if she had time to check on Katie Brandt. She did.
##
Katie was sitting up and drinking coffee when Shay entered the room. “You look like a million dollars, Dr. Shay,” Katie said, flashing the doctor a brilliant smile. “I’m glad to see you got some rest.”
“I take it you slept through the night,” Shay responded.
“Yes. I must apologize for monopolizing your time the past two days.”
Shay didn’t miss the blush that crept across her patient’s face. “Not a problem,” Shay quipped. “I was happy to watch over you. I’m even happier to see you’re doing much better this morning.”
“When you have time, I need to talk with you. I need your help.”
“I’ll be in surgery all morning,” Shay informed her, “but I’ll come see you as soon as I finish.”
“I’d like that.”
##
Shay successfully completed her scheduled surgeries and was scrubbing when Dr. Laurie Adams joined her.
“Can you give me a quick rundown on why you need me on this routine C-section?” Shay asked.
“It’s anything but routine,” Laurie growled. “One of our doctors performed a routine C-section on my patient two days ago. The new mother has been in severe pain ever since. I had a CT scan performed on her yesterday and discovered some Phi Beta Kappa left a surgical sponge in her and closed her up. Now there’s a massive infection, and we’ve got to remove the sponge before we can clear it up.”
Laurie shook her head. “I can’t believe we have a surgical team in this hospital that failed to count the sponges before closing her.”
“I’m certain you’ve pumped her full of antibiotics and set the stage for our success,” Shay said.
“I’ve done everything I know to do. Now we just need to remove that damn sponge and clean her out. This is all so unnecessary.”