Stress Test

by Richard Mabry

  “Rivera fell in love with Mendiola, who headed the Internet Technology section at Metropolitan. Eventually Rivera told her what he was doing. Rather than being shocked, she found ways to use her position in IT to steal even more personal information. Since there were now two of them working for Grande, Mendiola thought they deserved more money—at least twice as much, perhaps more. She pushed Rivera into presenting their demands. Grande decided he could get along without the two troublemakers, so he sent Hecht and Edgar Lopez to dispose of them. The men were to kidnap Rivera as he left the hospital after a late shift, take Mendiola from her home, and kill them both in such a way that would divert any suspicion away from the hospital.”

  That was what Matt needed to connect the dots. He’d thought repeatedly that he was figuratively walking in Rivera’s shoes: taking the job he’d left, driving his car. Now it made sense. This was yet another instance in which Matt had substituted for Hector Rivera. “They got me by mistake,” Matt said.

  “Right. Rivera was ill that night and didn’t go to work. The description Hecht had was sketchy. You were a dark-haired doctor, coming out of the ER after midnight, headed for a gray Chevrolet. So they took you. When you got away, Hecht decided to go ahead and get rid of Mendiola, leaving her body in your car to make it look as though you had killed her.”

  “And the attempts after that?”

  “At first Grande wanted to divert attention from Metropolitan Hospital, where you were kidnapped, so he tried to put you under suspicion so no one would believe your kidnapping story. When that didn’t work, he tried to frame you for murder, sacrificing Lopez to do it. And after that failed, Grande killed the other kidnapper and hired Hardaway to get rid of you. He wanted nothing that would lead back to him.”

  Matt looked at Sandra, who had been scribbling notes. She asked Ames, “Have you picked up Grande?”

  “I headed a team that went to his office with an arrest warrant earlier today. We confronted him, and he immediately reached into his middle desk drawer. One of the men with me saw a gun in the drawer, and when Grande’s hand started to come out with something in it, the detective shot him. Grande’s now at Parkland Hospital in critical condition.”

  “Did he have the gun in his hand?” Sandra asked.

  Ames shook her head. “No. He was holding a roll of bills.”

  Tanner made a face. “So he thought he could buy his way out of trouble, but all he did was buy even more.”

  “Jack, I appreciate your having Detective Ames give us the rest of the story,” Sandra said. “What about Grimes?”

  Matt could barely see the nod Tanner gave Ames. Now maybe he could find out why Grimes had been after him, and who was behind it all.

  Ames crossed her ankles and leaned forward in her chair. “As I told Dr. Newman, we discovered that Detective Grimes had accrued gambling debts he couldn’t pay. To pay the vigorish—the interest on the debts—he had to scramble, and eventually he was so far over his head that there seemed no way out. That was about the time Dr. Newman turned up in the Parkland ICU with a head injury and a not-very-believable story, and Mendiola was discovered dead in the trunk of Newman’s car. That’s when Grimes was contacted and told in no uncertain terms that Newman was to be arrested and go to trial for murder.”

  “Who would do that? And why?” Matt asked.

  “You’ll see,” Ames replied. “Someone, we can call him Mr. X, discovered that Grimes was in the pocket of some shady people. Mr. X contacted them, paid off Grimes’s debt—probably for a fraction of what it was worth—and let Grimes know that from now on he was working for him. Mr. X wanted one thing from the detective. He wanted Matt Newman charged with the death of Cara Mendiola.”

  “I repeat, why?”

  “At first because he saw prosecuting your case as his ticket to advancement in the DA’s office, maybe even the stepping-stone to becoming the district attorney when Mr. Tanner here retires. To make things even more interesting, as things progressed, he became infatuated with your former girlfriend. Even though she tried to keep that prior relationship secret, somehow the man found out. At that point, he decided it would be good to get you, Dr. Newman, out of the picture so there’d be no chance of a reconciliation.”

  Matt raised his hand slightly like a fifth-grader asking permission to speak. Tanner and Greaver exchanged looks. Apparently they knew the answer to the question Matt was about to ask, and weren’t happy about it. But he asked it anyway. “Who is this Mr. X?”

  Ames said, “You can see for yourself. The arrest should have taken place just a few minutes ago.”

  She opened the office door, and two policemen brought in a middle-aged man in handcuffs. He wore a wrinkled business suit. His pale blond hair was receding in front to meet an advancing bald spot. Rimless spectacles couldn’t hide eyes that darted right and left.

  “I don’t know what this is about,” the man said. “What’s happening?”

  Tanner stood and fixed the handcuffed man with a gaze that would pierce armor plate. “Dr. Newman, in case you don’t recognize him from your court appearance, this is Assistant DA Frank Everett. Or, I should say, former assistant DA.” To the police, he said, “Get him out of here.”

  As the police marched Everett through the doorway, Matt caught a glimpse of the office beyond, where an attractive woman with blond hair sat wide-eyed, her mouth a perfect O, her cheeks redder than any cosmetic could produce. Oh, Jen. Was he the one? Matt felt a twinge of compassion. Then the door closed.

  “So what’s the verdict?” Outside the exam room, phones rang, bits of conversation floated by, and the business of the neurosurgery clinic went on as usual. Matt blocked all that out and focused his attention on Ken Gordon.

  At first Gordon’s expression betrayed nothing. He glanced at the chart in his hand but didn’t open it. Then he looked at Matt and smiled. “It’s all good.”

  Matt took a deep breath for what seemed like the first time in a week. “My EEG is okay?”

  Gordon took the rolling stool opposite where Matt sat on the edge of the exam table. “Your EEG is fine. My guess is that you don’t have any residuals of your traumatic brain injury. The couple of spells you describe might have been an aberration—the brain’s a funny thing—or they might have been a case of emotional overload causing you to drift off.” He shrugged. “We may never know. What we do know right now is that you have no evidence of an abnormal EEG focus. You don’t have petit mal seizures. You’re cleared for full activity.”

  They talked a bit about getting Matt off his meds, and then Gordon hitched his stool closer. “Matt, I need to ask you something.”

  Matt’s antenna tingled. He knew Gordon and Sandra had been an item at one time. Was the neurosurgeon going to make another try? Was he about to ask Matt to step aside?

  “You may know that Sandra and I dated for a while.”

  Here it comes. Matt nodded, afraid to say more.

  “We broke up mostly because she has a deep faith in God, and I’m too pragmatic to believe in something without scientific evidence to back it up.” Gordon’s frown seemed genuine. “You’ve been through an absolute nightmare, but from what Sandra tells me, not only has your faith held up, it actually got stronger through all this. I can’t understand that. You’re a man of science, the same as me. How do you explain your continued belief in God?”

  Matt was confused. Did Gordon want to effect an outward change so he could make another try at Sandra? Or was he genuinely interested? On the one hand, Matt knew this was a great opportunity to witness—to share how his faith had been metaphorically tested by fire and forged into something stronger. But if he did, was he also giving Gordon ammunition he could use to get back together with Sandra?

  No, this was important. If Matt could help Gordon get closer to God, he had to do it. If Matt and Sandra were supposed to be together, it would happen, and if not . . . well, God was in control. I couldn’t have said that a month ago, could I?

  The past few days Matt had actuall
y been reading his Bible, finding long-forgotten passages jumping out at him. One of them came to mind now, an encounter when Jesus ran up against the same kind of “I can only believe it if I see it” doubt.

  “Ken, are you saying that you only believe in things that are rational? Maybe only things you can see?”

  “Right. I guess I find it hard to believe in something I can’t see or understand.”

  “Ken, there are lots of things you can’t see, but you still believe they exist,” Matt said. “I can’t see God, but I can see the results of His working all around me. He’s sort of like the wind. We can’t see it, but we know it’s there . . .”

  Matt had two phone messages. The first was from the medical student, Randy Harrison. “Dr. Newman, I appreciate your letting me watch and help with that aortic aneurysm. Spending time in the emergency room with you has really opened my eyes. Sure, some of the stuff you do is routine, and some of it’s frustrating, but you actually get the chance to save lives. I’ve already told my girlfriend I’m not going to try for a plastic surgery residency. I think she’s about to break it off with me, but that’s okay. Better to find out now instead of later. I hope I’ll see you back in the ER soon.”

  Matt put his feet up on the coffee table in his living room and thought about the time he’d spent as an ER doctor. He’d worried that he wouldn’t be equal to the task, that his training wouldn’t be sufficient. There were a few areas he had to brush up on, but by and large he found that his surgeon’s mentality—make the diagnosis, treat, move on—fit well in the ER setting.

  The next message was from Brad Franklin. “Matt, we need to talk about your faculty position. Give me a call.” He’d left his office number, and Matt dialed it now.

  “Dr. Franklin’s office, this is Peggy.”

  “Peggy, this is Dr. Newman. I’m returning Dr. Franklin’s call.”

  “Oh, it’s good to hear your voice. Are you doing all right?”

  Matt spent a couple of minutes assuring Brad’s administrative assistant that, although things had been tough for a while, they were looking up now. Finally she said, “He just got off another call. Let me put you through.”

  Matt spent a bit of the silent time wondering what Brad was going to say. He hadn’t really come off all warm and fuzzy when Matt was lying in the ICU without a friend. Then again, Matt could see Brad’s point. Hiring a faculty member who was a primary suspect in a murder case might not sit too well with the Board of Regents.

  “Matt, sorry to keep you waiting. How are you?”

  “Doing better, thanks.” Matt started to give Brad a recap of the latest events, but the chairman didn’t really give him a chance.

  “The reason I called is that we had to go ahead and fill that faculty vacancy. I mean, the fiscal year has started, and we needed someone to see those patients and staff the resident clinics. Of course, if you want to apply for next year—”

  “That’s okay, Brad. I understand. Thanks anyway.”

  Matt ended the conversation and wondered why he hadn’t told Brad up front that he was no longer interested in the position at the medical school. No matter. Rick had given assurances that Matt’s position in the ER was his as long as he wanted it, and it was looking like that would be quite awhile.

  “Dr. Newman, so good to see you.” Elaine came out from behind her desk and enveloped Matt in a warm hug.

  Matt noticed the ring on Elaine’s left hand, the white gold band in stark contrast with her caramel skin, the sparkle of the diamond matched by the sparkle in the woman’s eyes. “I see that congratulations are in order. Do I know the lucky man?”

  “I believe you met him yesterday. It’s Charlie Greaver, the assistant DA.”

  “Wonderful. Let me wish you both the best.”

  Elaine leaned close and whispered in Matt’s ear. “It’s lonely without someone to share your life. Remember that.”

  He whispered back, “Funny you should say so. That’s the reason I’m here today.”

  Elaine’s smile vanished, replaced by a look best described as dead serious. “I guess Sandra Murray’s the closest thing I have to a daughter,” she said, “so I hope you’ll forgive me for asking this. But she’s been hurt before, and I don’t want that to happen. What are your intentions?”

  Matt considered the question for a moment. “I want to get to know Sandra better. Let her get acquainted with me—not as a client, not as a doctor, but as a person. Like you said, she’s been hurt before. I don’t want to add to that. But I think we both need someone in our lives. Doesn’t the Bible say something about it not being good to be alone? I want to fix that—for her and for me.”

  “You know, you may be just the right man for the job.” Elaine smiled and gestured toward Sandra’s office. “Go right in.”

  Matt hadn’t been this nervous since his junior year in medical school, just before the internal medicine exam. He stopped in the doorway to watch Sandra at her desk, bent over an open law book, her finger tracing the line she was reading.

  A curl of red hair kept dropping forward into her eyes, and rather than stopping to push it into place, Sandra puffed out her lower lip and blew the strands away. She repeated this a second and third time before she looked up and saw Matt.

  “If there’s something that bothers you that much, you really should take care of it,” Matt said.

  Sandra got up and moved around the desk. “Sounds like a good rule.” She reached up and repositioned her hair clip. “Is that better?”

  Matt took a step toward her. “I think so.” His eyes moved from her red hair to sparkling green eyes to full lips shaded by just a touch of lipstick. His gaze lingered there for a moment before he went on. “There’s something else that needs fixing—your lips.”

  Sandra edged closer to him. “What’s wrong with them?”

  “Let me show you.” He closed the distance between them and reached out toward her.

  She held up her hand. “You’d better do one thing first.”

  Matt frowned. “What’s that?”

  “Close the door.”

  He turned away and said over his shoulder, “You’ll stay right here, Counselor?”

  “Doctor, you couldn’t move me.”

  In a moment they embraced and their lips met. After a few seconds, she leaned back, looked in Matt’s eyes, and said, “Yes, I think that’s what’s been missing.”

  For the first time in weeks, Matt allowed himself to relax. “Thank you.”

  “Did you say something?” Sandra asked.

  “Yes . . . but not to you.”

  READING GROUP GUIDE

  1. What was Matt’s relationship to the Lord at the start of the novel? At the end? What factors affected the change? Were there outward signs that signaled it?

  2. Although we never meet Matt’s brother, Joe, face to face, we see him reflected in e-mails and things he’s said before to Matt. What’s your impression of Joe? Why do you say that?

  3. Sandra justifies her refusal to be engaged to Ken Gordon using the Scripture that counsels avoiding being linked with unbelievers. How do you interpret that Scripture? Does it apply to marriage? Friendship? Business relations? Do you think God can use a Christian, linked in some way to an unbeliever, to change that person’s relationship with God?

  4. Sandra freely admits that she left a promising position to strike out on her own in order not to stifle her Christian witness. Does this resonate with you? Have you or someone you know ever done, or even contemplated doing, something like this? Does it always work out well?

  5. We have no direct information about Elaine, Sandra’s secretary, so far as whether she is or is not a Christian. What do you think is her status in that regard? Why? Short of asking a direct question, what might help you determine someone’s relationship with God?

  6. When Rick tells Matt he wants to become active in church to show his commitment to his new faith, Matt ponders the meaning of such an action. Do you think church membership is the badge of a true Chri
stian? What actions and attitudes mark a Christian? How are they demonstrated?

  7. What was your impression of Mrs. Penland, the mother of the man whose life Matt saved? Have there been instances in your life when a prior action, taken with no thought of reward, paid off for you?

  8. Do you think the Christian element of the novel detracted from or added to its value to readers?

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  The average reader may picture an author sitting alone at a computer, tapping out prose that goes directly to the printer, but that’s not the case. It requires a cooperative effort among many people to take a story from inspiration to publication,

  It started with my wonderful agent, Rachelle Gardner, who believed in me when it seemed that few did. She’s been with me every step of the journey and remains a great advocate, a trusted sounding board, and a true friend.

  My close friend, golf partner, and attorney (in that order), Jerry Gilmore, read the first draft of this work and made a few suggestions. It’s evolved since then, and if there are legal errors, they’re mine, not his, but I appreciate Jerry’s participation.

  Stress Test went through a number of edits, and I want to thank Lisa Bergren for exercising her talents to assist me with them.

  From there, the manuscript goes to the publisher. I’m fortunate enough to work with one of the best teams around, the folks at the Thomas Nelson imprint of Harper Collins Christian Fiction, under the very capable direction of Daisy Hutton. My editor, Amanda Bostic, deserves and gets my undying gratitude for all her work. Managing editor Becky Monds and her colleagues did a great job shepherding the work from galleys to printed book, following which the creative and energetic Katie Bond and her team made sure others heard about it. To everyone involved, my sincere thanks.

  As I sought to master the craft of writing, so many authors have become not just colleagues and mentors, but true friends. You know who you are, and I appreciate it more than you can know.