3 Executive Sick Days

by Maria E. Schneider

  I had to tell Holly. What if some diabolical criminal thought she had found the duplicate x-rays in the back of the drawer? She'd be in danger…unless she was the guilty party.

  Holly looked up to find me frozen with indecision. "Go back, and I'll pass this through. We're getting backed up in here."

  I scurried back inside the darkroom and waited. I tried to decide whether to shred the chest x-ray that I had mislabeled or cut the end off where the patient name, date and time stamp showed. Of course, whoever had stashed it in the back of the drawer was going to notice it was missing or tampered with.

  I pulled it out and looked at it. It was evidence. I had to keep it. But I had to find a way to get it out without anyone seeing me. Uh-huh. No problem. I could just walk out of here with a fourteen by seventeen stiff plastic x-ray up my shirt. No one would notice, not at all.

  The cassette rattled when Holly put the next shot in the pass box, so I got busy.

  My hands shook, but I developed it. I nearly passed out because I didn't realize I was holding my breath as I studied it, expecting it to be flawed.

  The leg x-ray was perfect.

  Whew! I sent a prayer heavenward and made some promises about my lax church attendance.

  I gave Holly the improved x-ray and hurried back inside the dark room. By now I was so tense, dying of a stroke seemed likely. With the warning light on to keep people out, I would be dead for days before anyone got permission to come in.

  I pulled open the drawer with the x-ray films. There was no way to know how many exposed, but not developed x-rays, were waiting at the back of the drawer. Did the culprit wait until a feeble person was checked into the hospital, develop a likely x-ray, slap the patient's name on it and add the charges?

  With the drawer open as far as it would go, I pulled film from the back. There were eight extra x-rays behind the last metal divider.

  Which was the one I had stashed? All eight films were the same size, fourteen by seventeen.

  There was no alternative. I couldn't chance taking the wrong one. I'd have to develop all of them to find the duplicate I had stashed. No way was I leaving it for someone else to find.

  Like a speed-demon, I started with the last one at the end of the drawer and developed it. I didn't know what else to do.

  With the lights back on, the leg shot stared back at me. It was a little on the light side, similar to the one I had taken to Holly. The only thing wrong with it was the lack of a patient name, but I wasn't about to time-stamp any more suspect x-rays on my shift. I stared at the chest x-ray that I had mistakenly developed.

  What was I going to do with these two pieces of evidence? Hiding them in the drawer was out of the question. That spot was already being used by the guilty party.

  More deliveries were shoved in the pass box. There was no time to waste on my petty problems. Frantic, I stuffed the evidence back in the drawer.

  Grabbing the cassettes, I did my job. The pace was unrelenting. I was rattled. Was Holly guilty of helping a doctor add charges onto bills? She worked the most often.

  Two more emergency patients came in, messing up the schedule. Holly shoved through the pass boxes as fast as I could develop. Between times, she knocked and provided instructions on which size films she needed. I didn't try any more duplicates. My experiments had proved the point, but I still didn't know how to get the evidence out of the place.

  Just after lunchtime, we got a break in the flow of patients. Unfortunately, Holly didn't leave for lunch. She was busy entering data, trying to catch up.

  There was no way to get two x-rays out of there without her seeing me. I thought again about finding a way to warn her, in case she was innocent.

  "Things got pretty crazy this morning," I started.

  "It's always like that when we get emergency stuff," she said, shaking her computer mouse. "Stupid computer. Slower and dumber than concrete." While she waited for the machine to catch up to her impatient clicking, she used her free hand to jerk her hair away from her face. Blond hair, hair the same color as the person in the patient record room late at night when no one was likely to be there legitimately.

  "I know I wasn't very fast, but…"

  She released her hair and waved me off. "No big deal. Just turn'em and churn'em. Next time, come out right away if you're not sure about something, and we can redo it. Then we don't get so far behind." She jerked open the desk drawer and pawed through the contents. "I know I had a hair clip." She tried the other drawer. "My hair is driving me nuts."

  The person in the records room had blond hair, like Holly. Of course she had a right to be there. Except she hadn't been on-call. "I'm going to run and get something to eat," I said.

  "Okay." She didn't look back around.

  It was past lunchtime, which made it easier to find Radar. He was coming back from lunch, headed for the stairs that led to the basement. My tummy rumbled at the thought of food, but I commanded it quiet and told Radar about the films. "Can you call Mark and Huntington and tell them?"

  "Why can't you?"

  "Because I need to get some food, and I can't call from x-ray. The whole world would overhear."

  Radar suddenly stiffened. "Can I borrow a dollar for the coke machine?"

  Huh? Cover to hide our real conversation, I supposed. I dug into my jeans pocket and extracted some loose change. He was lucky I had any. Until I worked here, all my spare change was in the bottom of my backpack. Since the incident with the lunch thief, I had started pocketing cash for emergencies.

  He smiled. "Thanks."

  I was dying to turn around and see who was behind us, but Attila saved me the trouble. "Sedona." Her foot tapped. "I am very disappointed that you left without notice. It's unacceptable."

  I closed my eyes. There was no way I could leave Radar in the lurch. No doubt the minute Attila got rid of me, she would back him into a corner. Strangely, he didn't look too concerned.

  I turned around, hoping Radar would have a chance to walk away.

  "Do you think I could borrow five bucks for lunch too?" he asked instead of leaving.

  "Yeah, sure." Why in the world was he asking me now? Hadn't he just come from lunch? I tried to put Attila off while I searched for more money in my pockets. "Let me get my backpack--"

  "I think patients take precedence over some person without lunch money again." Her foot tapped so hard I thought her shoe might fly off and hit me.

  "I'm on my lunch break!" I defended myself. "I talked to Ellen about switching!"

  "Your leaving is unacceptable. I've contacted Ellen to make sure she puts you back on a proper schedule." She shot equal venom at Radar and myself before spinning around and stalking off.

  Whew.

  "Here." I yanked bills out of my pocket.

  Radar looked at the handful of money. "That's okay. I don't need it." He slapped the change I had given him in my palm. "Thanks though."

  He sauntered off down the stairs leaving me standing with a handful of money. What had just happened here?

  I had no idea. Not a clue.

  No time to figure it out either. I needed food, and then I had to figure out how to get the evidence into the right hands.

  After grabbing a sandwich across the way, I returned to x-ray. I had hoped Holly would leave for lunch or go to the bathroom so I could sneak the x-rays down to Radar or out to my car. No luck. I stayed past five o'clock, but even when Holly finally went in the bathroom, I was too afraid of getting caught to sneak them away. I finally settled for smuggling a large manila envelope into the darkroom. I put both x-rays in it and shoved the entire packet behind the cabinet. Someone could still find it there or notice the missing x-ray, but no other options seemed viable.

  I went home and immediately called Huntington. Sadly, Mark didn't answer, but Huntington was impressed with my findings.

  "We need to get those x-rays out and keep them safe," he instructed.

  "I know, but I'll have to break in at night to do it. Holly or someone else is al
ways around. During the day a nurse can walk in at any time with a patient."

  "Break in? Is Mark over there with you?"

  I followed his non sequitur since I often associated breaking into buildings with Mark. "No, why?"

  He hesitated. "He's been spending a lot of time with you lately. I thought he might be over there working on the case."

  As fishing went, it was lame so I didn't respond. He could ask Mark if he wanted to know what Mark was up to. Then maybe I could get Huntington to tell me.

  I hung up, still not sure how to rescue the errant x-rays.

  Chapter 28

  Sleeping in was a wonderful thing, but it tended to turn me into a total slog. I could barely raise a finger to make cookies for my sugar fix late Saturday morning.

  At noon, I called Amy to check on Dr. Dan and left a message so that she would know I had called. Marge was next on the list. She informed me that Rabbit was almost back to normal and Pooh was making sure that Rabbit got enough exercise.

  Before I could make any further progress, the phone rang. It was Radar and from the noise, he was calling from his cell phone.

  "What's up?" I asked.

  "Huntington said you know where his condo is, and I should grab you on the way over."

  "We're meeting with Huntington?"

  "Yeah."

  "Have you found something?" I couldn't decide whether to be grateful that Radar had solved the case and I wouldn't have to empty any more bedpans, or disheartened that he had managed without much help from me.

  "Not really. Mostly reporting stats."

  "Okay," I agreed. "When will you be here?"

  "I'm in your driveway."

  I rolled my eyes in exasperation. When I opened the front door, he grinned at me from inside a black Maxima. "Are you going to come in and wait while I change?" I said into the phone.

  "Sure."

  He hung up and came to the door.

  "You couldn't just knock?"

  "I was on my way when I dialed. Last time I came to pick you up without calling, you were miffed."

  "It was six in the morning!" I folded my arms and glared while he stood there looking pleased with himself. I decided to enlighten him. "Next time you're going to be polite, make sure you give me enough time to change clothes before you arrive. That's the way calling works in polite society."

  He didn't lose the grin.

  "For example, if you decide to ask Attila out, you'll want to call well in advance before stopping over. I don't think you want to see that woman when she isn't expecting you."

  To my great satisfaction, there went the smile. "I've solved that problem."

  "Oh?"

  "Heh-heh."

  When he gave that answer, he usually had no intention of telling me any more information. "Radar!"

  He relented. "I asked to borrow money every time I saw her."

  “Borrow money.” It a moment for my brain to digest that information, but then I smacked my forehead with my palm. “So that was why you asked for soda money and then handed it right back. Wow. Very, very clever.” What woman would want to go out with a guy who asked for handouts? Attila wanted to be wooed and petted, not support some guy who had spent all his cash. Too bad that trick wouldn't work with pushy males. They'd think a woman wanted a free lunch--and then think the woman owed them something. "Brilliant."

  He looked pleased.

  Before his head got any bigger, I excused myself. "I'll be right back. There's soda in the fridge if you want one. Help yourself."

  I went into the bedroom and shut the door. I exchanged my comfy sweatpants and baggy sweatshirt for jeans and a sweater. When I got back to the living room, Radar was drinking a soda and looking at my stereo. He wore a fierce frown.

  "I know it's nothing special," I said.

  "You got that right. Now that Huntington is paying you for all this side work, maybe you can afford a better one."

  "Side work? Are you kidding me? I drew the low-end job on this one. My regular salary on this job is zero."

  His eyes flicked to me for a moment, and then he smiled. "Why don't you just wear sweatpants?"

  "I don't go anywhere in sweatpants," I lied. If the great minds were convening, Mark was probably going to be there. Not that Mark wasn't welcome to see me in my sweatpants. But I wasn't going to go out of my way to parade around in them. At least not this early in the relationship.

  "What about grocery store trips?" Radar asked.

  "Don't start. You've never been to Huntington's condo?"

  He shook his head and gulped some soda.

  "It's very nice. Very image-worthy. The guy at the front desk might not let us in if we wear sweatpants." I looked at him critically. "He might not like your long hair. Might call the cops."

  Radar didn't look perturbed in the least. "Really? That could be interesting."

  "You haven't met Michael. Interesting isn't really the right word for him and his front desk job."

  The Maxima was a nice car. It seemed that every person I knew had leather seats. Technically now that Huntington had given me the Mercedes I had them too, but I certainly hadn't paid for them.

  Radar didn't ask me for directions.

  "I thought you hadn't been to his condo?"

  "Addresses are public knowledge. Doesn't even take extra trolling for gems."

  I rolled my eyes. "Trolling is an interesting way to refer to illegal hacking." In order to be useful I offered, "I can tell you his parking spots unless you want the valet to park it."

  He shrugged and pointed his finger in triumph. "That required trolling."

  Trolling for no real purpose apparently. When we arrived, Radar hopped out and handed Eloy the keys. Eloy, the valet, waved at me. "Ms. O'Hala. How are you?"

  "Doing okay, and you?"

  Eloy smiled and saluted.

  Inside the condo's plush interior, Michael didn't let me down. He stood at attention in his little dark blue and gold uniform until he saw me with Radar, who walked with his usual slouch. His lowered head and eyes that flicked quickly around any new environment tended to make him look like a skulking criminal.

  Michael just about swallowed his tongue. His lips twisted as though he were auditioning for a bitter beer commercial.

  He sniffed. "I'll announce you, Mizzzzz O'Hala. Perhaps I should send a warning that you are bringing in," he waved his hand, and I swear he almost said "an undesirable" but finished with, "a friend?"

  "Go with a kidnapping," I replied pleasantly, hitting the call button for the elevator without waiting for his highness to come from behind the desk. "See, my friend here has me at knife point. He's going to take me upstairs and demand that Huntington come with us or else." I batted my eyelashes.

  Radar slit his eyes in my direction without removing his hands from his jacket pockets. He followed me onto the elevator without a word.

  Huntington's condo was on the third floor. Mark opened the door for us and maybe it was just wishful thinking, but his eyes might have lit up when he saw me.

  Since there were other people around, I tried not to sound too breathless. "Hi."

  "Hey." He squeezed my shoulder for a second or two as I went past him into the condo.

  Immediately, I remembered the cat. Huntington was holding the beast to keep him from running amok down the hallway. How many people could a cat like that maim before he was recaptured?

  Once the door was closed, Huntington put the cat down. Of course, the furry beast sauntered right over to me, black tail high in the air, and though I couldn't detect them, claws at the ready. He sniffed my shoes. He put his paws on my shoes. "No climbing," I ordered.

  Radar, thankfully, leaned over and put his hand out. The enemy decided to investigate. He left my shoes to nuzzle Radar's fingertips. "Little fellow, how've you been?" He scratched the evil kitty behind the ears. The evil kitty rolled over and grabbed at his hand, no claws.

  Good. Less problems for me.

  "I talked to Amy this morning," Huntington said
. "Dan is out of surgery and doing well."

  "I tried calling a few times today, but she didn't answer," I said. "Just how well is well?"

  His eyes traveled away from mine, and I knew he was selecting his words carefully. With men like Huntington, used to parrying with executives, it was often more important what he didn't say. "He fades in and out of consciousness. Amy said he talked once, but not only did he not know where he was, the last thing he remembered was quitting his job--the job he had before they moved to Denton."

  "You're not saying that as part of the plan to keep him out of danger?"

  He looked as though that idea had merit, but must have changed his mind because he said, "No. He's still heavily medicated, and the doctors intend to keep him that way until they are certain he'll have no more brain swelling."

  "Will he...fully recover?"

  Huntington shrugged. "Technically he is well on his way. Not remembering things after a severe head injury isn't unusual. Slurring words, same thing."

  We all sat silently for a few minutes. Having worked in a hospital now for several weeks, I could picture Dr. Dan. Some of the patients at Crestwood were often confused, having to be told each day who they were and where they were. "How is Amy?" I asked.

  "Grateful he is doing as well as he is." Huntington ran a hand through his hair. "The doctors think his memory will gradually come back. But they have acknowledged that he could go around with a pretty large gap."

  "We need someone on the inside," I said. "Someone to look at the x-rays and tell us who Dr. Dan might have talked to."

  Mark disagreed. "I don't think involving anyone else will help."

  "But who is doing it? We need a consultant, someone like Dr. Dan, who can tell us who stands to gain from fake x-rays."

  "Are you crazy?" Huntington asked. "That's precisely what put Dan where he is!"