by Judith Lucci
"Grand it's so good to hear your voice. Seems like forever since I talked to you. How're you feeling?" Alex’s voice was choked up.
"I'm fine, Alex. But you certainly aren’t. You sound down.”
Alex couldn’t reply as she blinked back her tears. She knew her grandmother would be upset if she knew how badly Alex felt.
“We've been keeping up with the New Orleans news. Sounds like the medical center's having a bad run of it. Have the police tracked down who's responsible?"
"No. They've some theories, but to tell you the truth, everything here's pretty chaotic. This voodoo business is unbelievable. Can you imagine using some religion to cloak a bunch of crimes?"
"Pretty smart, if you ask me. Of course, it'd only work in New Orleans. Somebody really wants to ruin CCMC." Just hearing Kathryn Lee's sympathetic voice brought tears to Alex's eyes.
"It's been terrible. Today Robert and I attended the funerals of two of the people shot in the emergency room. I've wanted to cry so hard all day."
Kathryn Lee listened quietly and allowed her granddaughter to vent her emotions then she gently said, "I'm sure you did. Maybe you should. Why not come home for a few days?"
"I'm going to, soon. When things settle down here, I'm coming for at least a week. How are the horses?"
"Beautiful, great, healthy. Did you say you went to the funerals with Robert?" Grand was a sharp as ever.
"Yeah, he's had a rough time. You know Grace Raccine's his patient?" Alex began.
"How's Grace?"
"About the same. She's still not responding, but what happened was so traumatic, it may take her a few weeks to come out."
"How's her cancer?"
"Don't know for sure, but they can't start any chemo or radiation until she's alert. It'd be too hard to monitor her."
"I'm sure the Governor's beside himself."
"He is, but seems to be handling it well. You know he moved her from CCMC to East Jefferson, don't you?"
Kathryn replied, "News covered that pretty well. Did it cause any hard feelings between him and Robert?"
"No, Robert was completely understanding. Things at CCMC are pretty bad, Grand. It seems like a conspiracy against us and the physicians are jumping ship as fast as they can and taking their patients with them. Meanwhile, other patients are afraid to come for care because of voodoo. Can you believe they think we’re cursed or hexed or whatever it is?”
Grand was pensive as she thought for a moment and said, “Yes, I believe it because it is happening. I guess we should never discount people’s culture and heritage, you know?”
“Yeah, I know. I guess I can't blame them. Finances are plummeting and Don Montgomery's afraid we'll go out of business."
"That's exactly what whoever's behind this wants to happen. Clear as a bell to me. What about the woman who was burned by the EKG machine? How'd that happen?"
Alex was stunned. "Was that on the news?"
"CNN at six this evening, along with the clip of their reporter hassling Robert at the funeral. You think Robert's involved with these accidents?" Her voice was fraught with concern. Grand had always had a special place for Robert and had been very sad when he and Alex had divorced. She had often said they were the perfect couple, a match made in heaven.
"I don't, yet there are too many coincidences for me to remain comfortable. Both of the patients are Robert's. Plus, Ron Davis and Diane Bradley were good friends. Robert is the godfather of Ron Davis’ seven-year-old son. He feels responsible for the children now and he's down, depressed, and sad about everything."
Kathryn Lee didn't speak for a few moments, and then said, "Knowing Robert, he will take his godfather responsibilities very seriously. Do you think there's a plot against him? Is someone using him to put CCMC out of business?"
"I don't understand it all, but I do think there's a plot or at least a connection. But who would use voodoo to sabotage a huge medical center?”
“I would say someone who’s pretty smart and planned well. Probably has some inside help somewhere,” Grand responded.
“Yep, you are probably right. Just hope it's solved quickly. Do you remember the man whose pregnant wife died in Virginia a few years ago? She was Robert's patient, and her car skidded and wrecked on Afton Mountain?"
"I vaguely remember it. She died during surgery, didn't she? I remember that Robert was devastated."
"Yes. Her husband, Jonathan Mercier, is the man you saw on the news tonight making threats against Robert. Still blames Robert for her death. He could be out to ruin him."
"So you think Mercier is part of this conspiracy against Robert and CCMC?"
"I can't prove it, but I think so. The police don't have enough information to question him yet."
"Why's Mercier in Louisiana, for heaven's sakes?"
"I don’t really know. He’s wealthy, a venture capitalist or something. He was doing business in Virginia when his wife was killed. To top it all off, he's on the CCMC board of trustees." Alex's voice broke in exasperation.
"The plot thickens, as they say. You okay, Alex? You're safe, aren't you?"
Alex could hear suspicion in her grandmother's voice. "I'm fine, just in emotional overdrive after this week, and today. But, I'll be fine. How's my mother doing?" Alex could barely talk over the lump in her throat.
"She's the same. No change. Sure you're not keeping something from me?" Her grandmother's instinct seemed to be working overtime.
"I'm really okay. Is Granddad there? He left me a message."
"I'm right here, darling. Been listening in and have fewer questions for you. Hang up, Kathryn, so I can hear Alex better."
"You old goat," Alex teased. "How dare you listen to my conversations?"
As Kathryn Lee hung up the phone, she said, "Take care, Alex, and come home soon. We miss you. Besides, now I'm worried about you."
"I’ll be fine. I love you, Grand. Take care of yourself. See you soon."
After Kathryn Lee hung up, her grandfather exploded. "Alexandra, what in hell's going on there? Something sounds rotten. This shit is getting worse and worse," her grandfather demanded, his voice gruff and demanding.
Alex laughed. "Yep, Adam, we got some real rotten stuff. Worse part is, I don't have anything solid on what's happening, and neither does anybody else."
"Tell me everything," Adam Patrick Lee demanded, "from the top."
Alex could see her grandfather in his study as he lounged in his green recliner, his favorite dog, Beau, at his feet and his Jack Daniels in a glass next to him. Piles of legislation stacked everywhere around the handsomely appointed room. She shook her head as she remembered her grandmother’s tirades every time she entered the room. It brought a much-needed smile to her face.
“Alex, would you talk, what’s the hold up?” Her grandfather’s voice was impatient and demanding.
Alex related the entire story to her grandfather and included the part about Frederico and the ponytailed man, but excluded the attack on her, and Francoise's concern about her safety. She also didn't mention Mitch or any part he might play.
Her grandfather listened carefully, without interruption. When she mentioned that Governor Raccine was planning to close the medical center, her grandfather exploded again with a blast of fiery expletives. "That's the dumbest damned thing I've ever heard. A governor closing the finest medical care facility in the State, not to mention it's a world-class medical center. The loss of revenues would kill him and cut deeply into the budget!”
Adam paused for a moment and then continued, “Yep, you got something really bad going on, maybe even crooked. What motive could Raccine possibly have for closing CCMC?"
"Well, he claimed it was affecting tourism, and, of course, it's Mardi Gras, the biggest tourism season of the year. He suggested that people were finding New Orleans an unsafe place to visit based on the voodoo scare at the medical center. Apparently, his tourism office reported substantial cancellations for the Mardi Gras festivities."
"That is unad
ulterated bullshit. You know it, and so do I. That would make more people come to New Orleans, especially all of the sickos and perverts. This story is selling hotel rooms and will draw tourists, especially at Mardi Gras, particularly if you threw a few ghosts in the mix. There's something bigger here. Is he just upset because of Grace?" Congressman Lee asked.
Alex could see her grandfather’s furrowed face as he contemplated the situation. "I'm sure he's concerned. It's especially bad for us since the Raccines usually go to East Jefferson. This was the first time they'd come to CCMC, so moving her gave us a vote of no confidence."
"For sure. Why'd they come this time?" Congressman Lee's voice was suspicious.
"Well, Grace has cancer and CCMC has the best cancer treatment program. Besides, Robert only operates at CCMC and he's Grace's surgeon. Why?"
"Nothing really. Robert still Grace's doctor?"
Alex responded, "Yes, he is. I know he applied for special privileges to treat her at Jefferson. I haven't heard anything different. But, to be honest, I don't know for sure."
"Find out. Just a little bit of information that I'm going to throw your way. Don't know that it means anything, but it's worth repeating.
"Some weeks ago, your Grandmother and I ran into George and Grace at the Washington Club. They were dining with some corporate hospital group. Their conversation seemed pretty intense. I wasn't listening, but when they mentioned New Orleans hospitals, I did listen a little harder."
Alex smiled a little as she visualized her grandfather eavesdropping for bits and pieces of communication that could affect him.
"Anyway," her grandfather continued, "I heard CCMC mentioned several times throughout the conversation, so Kathryn and I invited George and Grace for Sunday dinner at Wyndley. I tried to pigeonhole George into spilling the beans, but all he said was that this hospital conglomerate was planning to buy up some smaller hospitals in south Louisiana. He played it off as a small deal, you know, no political thing. Claimed he was trying to get himself educated on health care reform. Isn’t that some bullshit since none of us, not even Obama, knows what’s in that 1,000 page healthcare bill. I asked him about CCMC, feigning interest because of your position there. Raccine said CCMC had been approached, but wasn't for sale. He led me to believe that CCMC was so financially solvent that a merger or acquisition weren't even a possibility. Anyway, that's my story."
Alex thought for a second before she answered, "Well, CCMC was approached by a hospital conglomerate. I assume the group you're talking about is HealthTrust. They've bought up most of the hospitals in Louisiana, and they're pretty powerful with a lot of international connections. I suppose that's why they wanted CCMC. We have an enormous international patient base for transplants, orthopedics, cancer, and even plastic surgery. I don't really think it means a lot, but I'll keep it in mind."
"I still think something's rotten. I'm gonna put my aide on it tomorrow. I'll let him look into it. I need this kind of information anyway. I'll let you know if there's anything interesting that comes out of it. You're sure you're okay?"
Alex hesitated too long. "Sure, I'm fine. I'm really okay."
"The hell you are. I can tell from your voice. What the hell else is happening down there? Speak up, or I'm coming back down."
"It's really nothing."
Briefly, Alex outlined her visit to the voodoo museum and her visit to the voodoo meeting the evening before. She casually mentioned her injured shoulder.
"Shit, why are they after you? Something ain't right. Speak up, damn you! Tell me everything, Alex. Now, or I'll charter a friggin’ jet and come there to serve as your personal bodyguard... and... I may bring the Virginia National Guard with me. How'd you like that?"
Alex grimaced at her grandfather's tone of voice. Reluctantly, she told him about Mitch and their relationship. When she mentioned that Mitch was missing, her grandfather became livid. Alex could feel his anger jumping through the phone wires. She knew he’d keep her grandmother up all night long now. She could kick herself for hesitating.
"Alex, this man was pumping you for information. Don't you see that? If he's missing or dead, they'll come after you. I'm coming down. What information do you have that they possibly could want?"
"I don’t know. I have no idea at all. For all we know, they have Mitch somewhere. Anyway, Captain Francoise has an officer sitting outside my house as we speak. I'm perfectly safe. When Robert calls later, I may ask him to come over for a while.” She pleaded, “Please don't worry, I'm okay." Alex knew she was unsuccessful in convincing her grandfather.
"Shit, sounds to me like Bonnet would be the bait, the cherry on top of the pudding. I wouldn't have him over. Call me first thing in the morning. I'm going to make a few calls on my own. I do have some connections, you know."
"Really Granddad, keep this to yourself and don't tell Grand. She'll just worry and become upset,” Alex pleaded, probably to no avail.
"Hell, maybe I'll send her down there with that sawed-off shotgun of hers. She'd kill anybody that came within ten feet of your door. How’d you like that? Woman's scary... unstoppable!"
"Both of you stay in Virginia. This’ll blow over. I promise I'll call you in the morning."
"One more thing, Alex. Is George Raccine up for re-election? How popular is he now?"
Alex thought a minute. "Yeah, he's up for re-election. He's reasonably popular, but he's vulnerable. Many people don’t think he’s done anything."
"That's what I picked up earlier this week. Very interesting. Man doesn't have a platform anymore. Soft on everything. Call me tomorrow." Her grandfather's voice became gentle as he said, "I love you."
"Love you too, Granddad. I'll talk to you in the morning. Sleep tight."
Alex hung up feeling very homesick, and wished she could get a jet out of New Orleans straight to the family farm.
She spent the next hour thumbing through magazines and hoping that Mitch would call. Then she went into her bedroom to take some pain medicine. She reconsidered, and instead took two extra-strength Tylenol caplets. At eleven, she called it a night and went into her bedroom. She peered out her bedroom window and saw the unmarked police car in front of her house. Taking some comfort in that, she changed into her gown and went to bed.
***
At two in the morning, the phone awakened her from a fitful sleep. It was Mitch.
"Alex,” Mitch began breathlessly, "Sorry to call so late. I'm out of town, but I'll meet you tomorrow at the Fairmount. If I don't see you there, I'll meet you at the ball. I'm so sorry to call and awaken you, but some things have come up. And, please don't tell anyone, I mean anyone, you've talked to me. I have a lot to tell you, a lot to explain. I love you and I'm ashamed for whatever you may now think about me."
"Where are you," Alex asked, but it was useless. The phone was dead.
Alex went to the kitchen for a glass of water so she could take more Tylenol. The pain in her shoulder was excruciating.
She was jerked into reality and almost passed out when she saw the dark shadow of a man lurking at her back door. As she opened her mouth to scream, the intruder broke through the glass, turned the knob, and stared at her, face to face.
***
At precisely midnight, Governor Raccine was reading in his recliner in the library of the makeshift executive mansion in New Orleans. He was in desperate need of sleep due to his travel between Baton Rouge and New Orleans. Keeping up with state business had worn him out, not to mention his concerns about his wife and CCMC.
He dozed for several moments and awoke, startled at the sight of a tall, swarthy man entering his library through the glass doors from the courtyard.
"What the hell," he began, but he was immediately silenced by the dark, evil look of the man standing in front of him.
The stranger stared at the Governor for several seconds before he said, "Evening, Governor. Late night?" The stranger's voice was soft and menacing. "Getting your business in order?"
"Who the hell're you," the Gov
ernor blustered as he frantically searched the room for a weapon. It was useless because there weren't any. The Governor had always felt safe in Baton Rouge, but this was New Orleans and he'd forgotten his gun. Damn, he thought. I'm really slipping. No weapon, no security, little chance of defending myself. "Who're you and what do you want," he said, his voice angry.
The dark man said nothing and continued to stare at him, a half smile on his swarthy face.
The Governor watched in awe as the intruder sat on a footstool in front of his chair. The stranger was silent as he stroked a leather strap.
The Governor felt his fear mount. If I had a gun, I'd blow his fucking head off, he thought. The stranger outweighed him by at least forty pounds and was at least 25 years younger. He appeared rather strong. George Raccine was trying to guess his age when he noticed he had a ponytail. By God, he thought, I'm being accosted by a fairy. Empowered by false security, he stood up and looked down at the dark stranger. The man didn't move and continued to look at him with disgust.
"What the hell do you want?” the Governor blustered. “You know, if I make any noise, I'll have ten security guards in here in a second."
"No," the stranger said softly. "You'd only have eight and they are not immediately available. Two have been unavoidably detained. You see, they didn't want me here, visiting you so late at night, especially without an appointment."
"What the hell do you want, money, what?"
"I want Crescent City Medical Center, immediately. You know some of my partners. I believe you had a nice dinner in Washington a while back and you promised them CCMC. Remember? Remember the arrangements set up at that meeting?"
The Governor laughed. "You couldn't possibly represent HealthTrust. They're a corporation which happens to be on the up and up."
The man smiled slightly. "Of course they're very reputable, on the up and up as you say, and I help them stay up by making sure they get what they need."
There was a long silence and the Governor began to feel a scary feeling permeate his body. The hairs stood up on his arms and neck. Both men glared at each other. The ponytailed stranger continued, "You're a politician, a smart man, I hear. You know how to get the things you need...”