by Alexi Venice
“What about the allegation that they should have done surgery sooner?”
“Dr. Rice will address that accusation as well,” Monica said. “Mr. Seif received excellent care, and I’m confident the jury will learn that during tomorrow’s testimony.”
“On another note,” Tiffany said, “Is it true that there’s a monkey on the loose at the hospital?”
Monica masked her eyes from popping in surprise. “There is no monkey on the loose. A visitor brought what was claimed to be a support animal, a monkey, to the hospital, which escaped from the visitor’s backpack. The monkey was calmly secured in a supply room and returned to the owner without incident.”
“Was the monkey tased?”
“Absolutely not. He was healthy and happy when returned to his owner. In fact, I was there and watched his owner put him in a pet carrier.”
“Why was the owner picketing with a large group in front of the hospital to protect the monkey’s rights?” Tiffany asked.
“I don’t know,” Monica said. “The monkey’s rights were respected at all times. Again, I was with the monkey for a while before he was returned to his owner. He was happy, even eating a banana, while hospital Security found his owner and brought her to him.”
“Is it true that the monkey visited the pediatric wing of the hospital and entertained the children?”
Not disguising her surprise, Monica smiled. “Not to my knowledge. I didn’t receive any reports that the monkey visited the pediatric wing.”
“So, worst case Ontario, the monkey visited patients’ rooms, then, right?” Tiffany asked.
“Did you mean to say, ‘worst case scenario?’”
“What?” Tiffany asked. “I thought it was ‘worst case Ontario?’”
“Ah, no. That is not a legitimate saying,” Monica said.
“Oh. Cool. Thanks. If I get more information about the monkey, are you the hospital spokesperson I should contact?” Tiffany asked.
“Yes.” Monica’s mind quickly flew through the possibilities of Marcus visiting children in patient rooms. Is a family alleging that they saw Marcus in pediatrics?
“Thank you,” Tiffany said.
“My pleasure.”
Tiffany signaled to the cameraman to turn off his camera. “Will you be here tomorrow, Attorney Spade?”
“Yes,” Monica said.
“I look forward to seeing you.” Tiffany smiled brightly and let her eyes leisurely cascade down Monica’s body. “We should get a drink sometime.”
Is she looking for inside info or a date? “Maybe,” Monica said noncommittally. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting.”
Tiffany’s eyes stayed glued to Monica’s. “How about I call you when the trial is over?”
“That sounds nice. Sorry, I have to run.” Monica quickly slipped by Tiffany and made a bee line for her truck.
Her phone rang when she was ten minutes into her drive toward the hospital.
“This is Monica.”
“Al here. You wouldn’t believe who just called me.”
“Who?”
“David McKnight.”
“Seriously? Court got out only 20 minutes ago,” she said.
“That’s what he said. You know what else he told me?”
“What?”
“He said he’d return the million dollars to the stadium project as a donation if we put permanent signage up that McKnight Construction is a benefactor,” Al said.
“That sounds too good to be true,” she said.
“I know, right? It sounded kind of attractive at first, but—”
“There’s a catch,” she said.
“More than a catch, and it’s against the law.”
“What?”
“He told me the million dollars is contingent on the physicians testifying favorably for Trevor McKnight.”
“Are you serious?” she asked.
“Yes, He even laid out what he meant by ‘favorably.’ He said they need to say that Abdul Seif cracked his skull from falling down drunk rather than from Trevor’s punch.”
“Oh my God, Al,” Monica gasped. “If you asked the physicians to do that, which I doubt Drs. Khouri and Rice would do anyway, you’d be suborning perjury.”
“I don’t care what you call it,” he said. “I’m not going to jail over this McKnight kid’s bad judgment. Even if McKnight offered to pay me one million dollars personally, there’s no chance in hell I’d try to influence the physicians’ testimony. For God’s sake, they already explained all their care, and the cause of death, to the Seif family.”
“I can’t believe he was so brazen to suggest that,” she said. “If he’s that desperate, and reckless, who knows what else he’s capable of?”
“Should we warn the physicians?” he asked.
“Yes, but let me do it. I don’t want you to talk to them about their testimony at all.”
“Are you going to tell DA Bisset about this?” he asked.
She thought for a minute as she drove. “If you want me to, I can, but if she decides to press charges, she’d call you to testify against McKnight—”
“And he’d deny it anyway. Never mind. Don’t tell the DA,” he said.
“That’s the way I was leaning,” she said. “Let’s not tell anyone about that call, as long as you said no to him.”
“I was clear that I wasn’t interested,” Al said.
“Okay,” she said. “I’m meeting with the physicians soon, so I’ll reinforce the truth, and make sure McKnight hasn’t attempted to bribe them either.”
“Thanks Monica,” he said.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The next morning
When Monica’s alarm belted out a Billie Eilish song at 4:30 a.m., she was already in her kitchen, drinking coffee and replying to work emails. Dressed in leggings, a tank and a hoodie, she was ready for CrossFit class.
A Facebook message from Shelby populated on Monica’s phone screen, interrupting her concentration on the purchase agreement for McKnight’s shares in Thunderbolt Stadium.
Her pulse quickened as she read Shelby’s note. Saw you on the news. You looked stunning on the courthouse steps. Loved the way you handled yourself. Are you coming to class this week? When will I see you next?
Monica smiled, her attitude brightening now that her romantic life was sprinkled with promise. She replied, Thank you. I’m going to the early CrossFit class this morning. How about you?
Shelby replied, I suppose, since I’m already up. See you there.
Later, when Monica entered the gym, she spied Shelby filling her water bottle at the fountain. Monica trotted over. The sexy mole on Shelby’s upper lip lifted with the smile Monica had come to adore, Shelby’s face radiating simple delight at seeing Monica.
Feeling emboldened, and drugged by sheer happiness in the moment, Monica leaned in and hugged Shelby. “Good morning.”
A surprised Shelby wrapped her arms around Monica’s back—too tightly for a platonic greeting. “Good morning to you.”
Monica tilted her head back, feeling a delicate shudder rise up Shelby’s body, as fire passed from Shelby’s eyes to Monica’s heart.
Shelby inclined her head, “Am I only going to see you at CrossFit?”
Monica blinked, letting her hands fall. “Of course not, but I’m tied up with this trial right now.”
Shelby let her hands fall too, but only to Monica’s forearms. “Can you break away for lunch? Craig’s class is meeting at The Broken Spoke today at noon.”
“Really?” Monica asked. “Will you be there?”
Shelby quirked an eyebrow. “Would I ask otherwise?”
“Cut me some slack,” Monica said. “My brain is preoccupied, but I’ll try to make it. No promises. In fact, the chances are slim.”
Shelby drew a few circles on Monica’s forearm with her thumbs, focusing all of Monica’s nerve endings to the delicate skin. “I won’t count on you, but I’d be delighted if you could break away.”
A lum
p formed in Monica’s throat.
“All right everyone,” Craig interrupted, “Let’s gather around the white board for this morning’s workout.”
Shelby let her hands drop, and Monica immediately missed her blazing touch.
They partnered for the workout—jumping on boxes, lunging across the floor space, and throwing medicine balls against the wall. Where Shelby responsibly counted out every repetition, following the workout instructions to a tee, Monica didn’t bother. She did each exercise until her muscles burned then stopped, caught her breath, and moved onto the next.
How could she count while lusting after Shelby’s round ass with the athletic dimples? While watching the sweat bead up across Shelby’s chest above her tank? While following a pantherine Shelby around the gym doing lunges?
Monica’s head was spinning with desire while her body performed with extra vigor, all the pent up sexual need driving Monica to crank up the weight. Even though she was reaping the benefits of exercise, the most important parts of her body remained untouched, driving her to the brink of insanity.
The music didn’t help. Craig’s mix included Wasabi by Little Mix, and the suggestive lyrics only added to Monica’s heightened sexual prowess: “Love to hate me, crazy, shady. Spit me out like hot wasabi. Lick me up I’m sweet and salty. Mix it up and down my body.” God, she’d give anything to be doing that to Shelby.
When the grueling lifting, lunging and panting ended, their bodies exhausted but not sated, Craig instructed them to share a thigh-high box, face each other, and lay a bent leg across the top of the box in ‘pigeon pose.’ Standing on her left foot, Monica lay her right shin on top of the box and pressed her knee down, opening up her pelvis. Directly across from her, their knees touching, Shelby did the same.
Monica admired Shelby’s legs. Okay, she was really admiring Shelby’s hips and pelvis.
“You’re staring,” Shelby said.
Monica’s eyes flew to Shelby’s. “I’m concentrating. Sorry.”
“Uh-huh,” Shelby said in a disbelieving tone. “I apologize if I stink. I’m really sweaty.”
Monica took in Shelby’s gleaming chest, her flushed neck, her red face. “Trust me, you don’t stink, and I’d love to be pressed up against your sweaty body—” Monica stopped and covered her mouth, her eyes growing wide.
Shelby’s initial surprise turned into a low, guttural laugh.
Monica’s eyes fell. “Did I just say that out loud? Did the words actually came out of my mouth?”
“Yeah,” Shelby said in a husky whisper. “Now I get to take those words, and that silly look on your face, with me all day. Thank you.”
Relief flooded Monica. They switched legs to give the opposite side a good stretch.
“I should get going,” Monica said. “Can’t be late for court.”
Shelby lay her hand on Monica’s knee before she could shove off. “I hope everything goes well today. Maybe I’ll see you for lunch.”
Fire traveled from Monica’s knee to other areas, almost eclipsing her ability to speak. “I hope so too.”
Their eyes met, and so much was communicated without speaking that only the awkwardness of their positions prevented Monica from leaning over and kissing that delectable mole above Shelby’s upper lip. Sexy as fuck!
Monica finally removed her leg from the box and shook it out. “I seriously need to go.”
“Bye, sexy,” Shelby said in a hoarse voice that belonged back in bed.
“You’re torturing me,” Monica whispered then turned and walked toward the door. The sensations running down her spine told her that Shelby’s eyes were on her back the entire way.
Once Monica was home, she tried to set aside her romantic thoughts, chiding herself for blurting out what she was thinking to Shelby. Rookie move, revealing my desires and vulnerability like that.
She showered and prepared for court, wearing another conservative suit, this time choosing a feminine, deep green blouse that accentuated her emerald eyes. Maybe Shelby would notice if Monica made it to lunch. Snap out of it! I’m in charge of the hospital account now! Focus, focus, focus!
When she walked out to her driveway to get in her truck, she noticed a folded piece of paper on the windshield. Part of her hoped it was from Shelby, but that would be weird if Shelby had driven by Monica’s house. Even stalkerish.
She lifted the wiper blade and unfolded the note. In simple black print, the note said, “The physicians better testify that Abdul fell down drunk and cracked his head.”
Monica’s heart sank. She ran the edge of the note against her fingers, as she quickly glanced up and down the street. Did she really expect to see shady thugs parked across from her house? She shook her head and stuffed the note in her attaché, planning to show it to Dominique at the first opportunity.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Monica made it to the courthouse in plenty of time to touch base with the physicians privately before they testified. She had prepped each of them individually the afternoon prior, but calming nerves and answering last-minute questions was customary for any witness.
The judge ruled that all witnesses had to be sequestered throughout the trial, so the doctors weren’t allowed in the courtroom until they testified. In the eyes of justice, preventing witnesses from listening to each other’s testimony preserved the unique memory of each witness regarding the facts of their involvement, guarding against poisoning one witness with another’s testimony.
As counsel for the physicians, however, Monica had no problem discussing their care as a team because that’s how they routinely worked in the hospital. Drs. Khouri and Rice cared for Abdul together in the Emergency Department then followed him in the CCU, having numerous discussions.
She grabbed her favorite conference room off the main corridor—a few always available to lawyers—and spread out her stuff, including the physicians’ notes from the medical record. Both Drs. Khouri and Rice joined her.
She did NOT counsel them to lie as the threatening note on her windshield had suggested. If anything, the threat solidified her resolve to solicit the truth.
As soon as the jury was convened, their notebooks on their laps and pens in their hands, Dominique called Dr. Khouri to the stand.
Dr. Khouri was sworn in by the court clerk and proceeded to the witness box, where he sat in the government-issued office chair, adjusting the microphone to his mouth. Monica thought he looked very professional in his grey suit, white shirt and sedate blue tie.
She estimated he was in his mid-forties but looked like he had seen more miles than years. He was clean-shaven today, contrary to his usual light beard, giving him a younger appearance.
“Doctor, please state your full name for the record,” Dominique said.
“Rashid Khouri, MD.”
“What’s your current address?”
“I live in Apple Grove, Wisconsin.”
“Are you a United States citizen?”
“Yes. I hold dual citizenship.”
“The United States and where else?” Dominique asked.
“The United Arab Emirates.”
“When did you become a U.S. citizen?”
“Eight years ago.”
“How long have you lived in Apple Grove?”
“Six years.”
“What do you do for work?”
“I’m an Emergency Department physician at Community Memorial Hospital.”
“Where did you do your training?”
“I did a residency and fellowship at the Cleveland Clinic in Cleveland, Ohio.”
“Are you board certified?”
“Yes, in emergency medicine.”
“Did you have occasion to provide emergency care to Abdul Seif, the victim in this case?”
“Yes. Mr. Seif came in as a trauma during my shift.”
“Please tell us his condition upon arrival.”
Dr. Khouri cleared his throat. “The patient was unconscious. He had dried blood below his nose and at the base of h
is skull. He was breathing on his own.”
“What did you do?” Dominique asked.
“We ran our trauma protocol to check his airway, which was open, his breathing, which was shallow but present, and his circulation. His heart was beating.”
“Then what did you do?”
“Since he had an obvious head injury, we prepared him for a CT scan by lightly sedating him.”
“What did the CT show?”
“It showed a fractured skull and a small amount of blood on his brain.”
“How did you treat that?”
“We intubated him, so we could give him stronger sedatives to relax his system to prevent his brain from swelling. Then I paged the neurosurgeon on call, Dr. Danielle Rice.”
“Did Dr. Rice come to the hospital right away?”
“Yes. She examined Mr. Seif. We looked at the CT scan together and made a care plan.”
“What was the care plan?”
“We admitted him to the Critical Care Unit for neurological assessment, medication and ventilation.”
“What is ‘ventilation?’”
“He was on a ventilator, a machine that breathed for him, because he was very sedated, and sedation relaxes the lungs.”
“And you sedate him to calm down his brain?” Dominique asked.
“Yes. To prevent swelling.”
“What medications did you give him?”
“Sedatives and a saline solution.”
“Did you follow his care while he was in the CCU?”
“Yes. I checked on his condition several times and spoke to his parents on two occasions.”
“Tell us about your conversations with Abdul’s parents,” Dominique said.
“The first phone call was to apprise them of his admission. The second phone call was to apprise them of his sudden death.”
“When you told Abdul’s parents about his initial condition, what did you say?”
“I told them that he had been hit in the face, fell back on the sidewalk, and cracked his skull. He was in serious condition, but youth was on his side, so we were hoping for the best.”
Halliday bolted from his chair. “Object, Your Honor, hearsay. The doctor didn’t witness the fight outside the bar.”