by Dawn Eastman
8
Saturday morning, Katie rounded on the two floor patients first. In a hospital, the “floor” patients were the ones on a regular nursing floor, as opposed to those in one of the intensive care units. Neither of the patients were Katie’s, but she was on call for the practice and had to visit anyone in the hospital. Katie first visited one of Emmett’s long-time diabetics, who was only partially compliant with his insulin regimen. He was admitted a few times a year, usually after another illness had disrupted his blood sugar control.
“Hello, Mr. Walsh. How are you feeling today?” Katie asked as she entered the room.
“Much better now that you’re here,” Mr. Walsh said. He winked at her and smoothed the four white strands of hair across his head.
Katie smiled at him and flipped open his chart.
“Looks like your blood sugar has stabilized. Do you feel well enough to go home this afternoon?”
“I don’t know, Doctor.” Mr. Walsh shook his head slowly. “My wife’s sister is visiting. It might be better if I just stayed here for a couple of days.”
“I think you should give it a try,” Katie said. “Don’t you get along with your sister-in-law?”
Mr. Walsh sighed. “She’s fine. It’s just that when she and my wife aren’t arguing, they’re laughing. It makes for a loud and unsettling visit.”
“Would you like me to talk to your wife?”
“No! No, that will make it worse, Doc.” Mr. Walsh held up his hands to fend off her offer.
“What if I send home a prescription for quiet rest? Would that work?”
Mr. Walsh sighed. “It’s worth a try. And I’d rather eat at home than here.”
Katie smiled at him. “I’ll get the paperwork ready.”
The second patient was a young man with chronic pancreatitis. He was so frequently in the hospital that he probably could have managed his own care. It mostly involved pain control and following labs. Once the excruciating pain had subsided, he would ask the nurse to discharge him.
She wrote brief notes and updated the orders while sitting at the nurse’s station.
“I think the whole thing is fishy,” a voice said from the supply room. Katie glanced at the door, but it was mostly closed.
“People do kill themselves, Sharon,” another voice said. “It’s not like every death has to be a murder. You watch too much TV.”
Katie’s hands went still on the keyboard, and she held her breath. Sharon was one of the nurses who worked weekends. Katie didn’t recognize the other voice. Were they talking about Ellen? Katie stayed very quiet and shamelessly eavesdropped.
“I don’t think every death is a murder. We have plenty of deaths here—those aren’t murder,” she said.
“So who do you think killed her?”
“I don’t know. Her husband? Cecily Hawkins?”
“What? Dr. Hawkins’s wife? Why would she do that?”
Sharon’s voice dropped to a low murmur, and Katie stood and stepped closer to the door. “Didn’t you hear about Dr. Hawkins and Ellen Riley? They—”
“Hey, Dr. LeClair!”
Katie startled and turned back toward the desk.
“I just want to thank you so much for seeing Jimmy the other day.” Layla Price, another nurse who worked mostly weekends, leaned over the high counter and grinned. “He’s much better now on that antibiotic.”
The voices in the closet had gone silent. Katie dredged up a smile for Layla. “I’m so glad to hear that.”
“Of course, now that he’s better, he’s running me ragged. I had to come to work to get some rest!” Layla laughed at her own joke until her attention was pulled by something down the hall. “I have to go see what four-twenty-three needs. Nice to see you, Doctor.” Layla hurried down the hall.
Katie finished her charting with no more gossip emanating from the supply closet. She’d have to find out what they were talking about. Of course, she didn’t want to start a rumor by asking around about Nick’s wife and her feelings toward Ellen Riley. She’d have to be careful.
Katie logged out of the patient chart and grabbed her messenger bag. She had one more stop to make before she was done for the morning. Turning the corner at the end of the hall to enter the ICU, she hesitated at the doorway, remembering the last time she had been there. The doors breezed open on their sliders. Most of Baxter Community Hospital was older and, to Katie’s mind, quaint. But the ICU had been completely updated two years ago. It was like stepping off a horse-drawn carriage into a space ship.
Three of the five patient rooms were occupied, but Katie was only here to see one of them. Ethel Blackstone was seventy-six years old and had been brought in two nights ago due to a stroke. She had been in and out of consciousness, making a full neurological exam tricky. Emmett wanted her to stay in the ICU through the weekend to be sure she was well monitored. He had told Katie he didn’t always trust the weekend nursing staff on the regular floor to keep a close enough eye on the sicker patients. Plus, Marcy was working in the ICU this weekend, and she was a former neurology nurse. Ethel was in great hands and hardly needed Katie at all. She walked past the large desk that housed the monitors and computers and all the paperwork that went into caring for patients. She glanced at the two people sitting at the desk and did a double take.
Marcy was there as she expected, but sitting at the end, head down and tapping away on a laptop, sat Matt Gregor. He must have sensed her staring and looked up from his screen.
A smile spread slowly across his face, so warm that Katie felt heat rising in her own cheeks.
“Dr. LeClair, we meet again,” he said, flipping his laptop shut and leaning back in his chair.
“Dr. Gregor,” Katie said and nodded at him.
“Are you here for Mrs. Blackstone?” Matt asked and grabbed a chart from the rack before coming around the desk. The ICU director didn’t trust computer records and insisted on hard copies of all active patient files.
“Yes, I . . . I’m on call this weekend,” Katie said.
“I’m moonlighting for Dr. Peters. She’s out of town this week,” Matt said. “I have the other two.” He nodded toward the remaining cubicles in the unit.
“Moonlighting?” Katie mentally smacked her forehead. She sounded like an intern on her first week of residency.
“Well, locums work, really. She shut her office down but wanted me to deal with any hospital stuff or emergencies.”
Katie nodded, still wondering why Dr. Gregor, who had been a rising star in the Internal Medicine department at University Hospital, was working ER shifts and doing locums work. It didn’t seem like he’d have time, for one thing, and for another, it was usually people in-between jobs or transitioning to another specialty that signed on with locum tenens companies. They were like temp services for doctors. The last she’d heard, Matt was in practice with his father in Ann Arbor.
“Are you . . . not working in Ann Arbor anymore?”
Matt grimaced. “I’m still working with my father, but I’m doing some extra shifts here and there. It’s decent money, and the work isn’t too demanding.”
He lowered his voice and said, “How are you doing after the other night?”
Katie felt her eyebrows shoot upward. “You mean Ellen Riley?”
Matt nodded. “It seemed like maybe she was your first.”
Katie took a step back. “I’ve had plenty of patients die.”
Marcy’s head snapped up.
Katie held her hand up. “I didn’t mean it that way.” She hoped her face wasn’t as red as it felt.
“But the first one after residency, when it’s your own patient, it’s different,” Matt said. “Doctors have a tendency to blame themselves even if it wasn’t their fault.”
“I’m fine, thanks,” Katie said. Could he sense her feeling of guilt, or did he think she should feel guilty for the diazepam? Gabrielle’s voice in her head said, “Maybe he’s just a nice guy.”
“If you ever want to meet for a drink and talk a
bout it, here’s my number.” He slipped a piece of paper out of his pocket and wrote a number on the back.
Marcy caught her eye and gave her a thumbs-up behind Matt’s back.
Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she hoped Matt couldn’t sense that as well. Katie took the paper and shoved it in her bag. Gabrielle would tell her to set a date right now, this minute. Instead, she said, “Thank you. I’ll think about it.”
Ugh! What was wrong with her? It’s not like Justin had left her last week. It was years ago. And why did she think of Justin every time she contemplated Matt Gregor? Then Katie realized what it was. She had the same jittery, bubbly feeling that she’d had the first time she met Justin. Well, she wasn’t going to tell Gabrielle about this. Maybe if she ignored it, it would go away. And if she was going to run into Matt Gregor all over town, she’d better get control of herself.
She turned to the counter and set the file on top. As she flipped it open, she saw Matt put his computer away and slide the strap of his bag over his shoulder. “See you tomorrow, Marcy,” he said. He nodded at Katie and said, “Dr. LeClair.”
“Dr. Gregor.”
Just as he reached the door, an alarm sounded in one of the patient rooms. Mrs. Blackstone’s vitals monitor made a loud shrieking noise. Marcy was out of her chair before Katie had even identified the source of the racket. Katie rushed into the room and felt Matt right behind her. Mrs. Blackstone’s EKG had flatlined.
Marcy hit the code button, sending an announcement throughout the hospital that they needed backup to perform cardiac resuscitation and get Mrs. Blackstone’s heart beating again.
Katie felt for a pulse while Matt went out in the hall to get the crash cart.
“Ready, Doctor.” Marcy was in position to begin chest compressions.
“Wait. She has a pulse,” Katie said. “In fact, it’s quite strong.” She glanced down at Mrs. Blackstone’s hand and saw the cord for the monitor sitting loosely in her hand. She must have woken enough to pull on the cord. A good sign neurologically, but one that had thrown her doctors into a tizzy. Katie pushed the button to silence the alarm and plugged the cord back into the machine.
A regular, steady beat began to crawl across the screen.
“She must have pulled the cord out,” Marcy said. “I’ll make sure it’s taped out of the way.”
Katie looked at Matt, and they shared a moment of relief. She wished all alarms were dealt with as easily.
“Are you finished with your rounds?” she asked. Still flustered from the near-code, her heart was racing. She reminded herself that Matt wasn’t Justin. He wasn’t anything like Justin.
Matt nodded.
“Can I buy you a cup of coffee?” she offered. He had been ready to jump right into another medical emergency, no questions asked. And she was being too standoffish, as usual.
“Sure.”
Katie examined Mrs. Blackstone and quickly wrote a note in her file. She and Matt stepped out of the shiny ICU into the older part of the hospital.
“I don’t think I can stomach the cafeteria coffee,” Katie said. “Want to meet at the Purple Parrot?”
Matt’s smile transformed his face, and for a moment Katie saw the person behind the white coat.
They were almost out the front door when Chief Carlson stopped them.
“Hey, Doc! Wait.” He jogged up to them.
“Hi, John,” Katie said. “You remember Dr. Gregor from Wednesday night.”
Carlson nodded, and the men shook hands.
“Actually, I was looking for you as well, Dr. Gregor.”
Matt’s eyebrows rose a fraction, but otherwise he waited for Carlson to continue.
“Beth Wixom is asking for a full investigation into her mother’s death,” Carlson said. “I’ll have to ask you both some questions about that night.”
“We were just about to get some coffee at the Purple Parrot,” Katie said.
“Great, I’ll meet you there,” Carlson said.
She thought she heard Matt sigh next to her, but when she looked at him, he appeared unfazed by the unexpected guest.
Katie smiled at John. “Okay, we’ll see you in a few minutes.”
“Good,” Carlson said. “This is just a casual conversation. I’m not sure there will be anything to learn that will change how we pursue this, but I’d appreciate it. The sooner I can tell her we’ve looked into it, the sooner I can close the case and let the family move on.”
Matt pulled his keys out of his pocket and jingled them in his hand. “Want to ride with me? I can drop you back here when we’re done.”
Katie sensed that he wanted to talk to her before they met with the police chief.
“Okay.”
“I’ll see you both there in a few minutes.” Carlson headed back into the hospital, presumably to get his car out of the visitor lot.
Katie followed Matt to the back doctor lot, and he led her to an older Honda sedan. It was immaculate inside, and Katie settled back in the seat.
When he turned on the ignition, Frank Sinatra’s “Come Fly With Me” blasted from the speakers. Matt quickly hit the button to shut it off.
“Sorry,” he said.
“I love Sinatra. My mother listened to him all the time when I was a kid.”
“Okay then.” He smiled and hit the button again but turned down the volume.
When he didn’t bring up Chief Carlson’s desire for a meeting, Katie finally concluded he’d just wanted to ride with her. She settled back and listened to Sinatra croon.
“People usually give me a strange look when they hear I like Frank Sinatra,” Katie said.
Matt steered the car out of the small employee parking lot and onto the treelined drive that led to the hospital. He turned right out of the hospital campus and headed toward downtown.
“Me too. My mother also loves him,” Matt said. “I guess he just wormed his way into my brain.”
“Is your mom a physician too?” Katie asked. She already knew the answer but didn’t want him to know she was fully informed about his background. Better to not seem stalker-ish, especially since it was Gabrielle who had gathered all the intel.
“Yes, she’s head of pediatrics at the university. Before she got involved in administration, she was a pediatric gastroenterologist.”
They entered the three-block “business” section of town. Antique shops shared space with a few small boutiques, a craft store, and a tiny pharmacy.
He parallel parked a few spots down from the Purple Parrot, the only coffee shop in town. There were two bars, Pete’s sandwich shop, Riley’s, and the café. Mrs. Peterson and her daughter ran the Purple Parrot together. When Mr. Peterson died, he left just enough money for them to invest in the small sandwich and coffee shop. Most of their business was during the lunch hour, but they did stay open until eight to catch some evening customers. It was a smart move. They were down the block and across the street from Riley’s.
Christopher Riley had turned the business around after his father died. He had opened several other locations in the Midwest, and the Riley’s in Baxter was always packed on the weekends. Almost all the people who came out to Riley’s between six and eight o’clock, only to discover there was more than an hour wait for a table, gravitated over to the Purple Parrot for coffee. Katie didn’t know where the shop got the name, but it was one of her favorite places in town.
Matt held the door open for her, and she stepped inside. The café felt like a library reading room with shelves on every wall filled with books and knickknacks. The seating was mostly couches and overstuffed chairs situated around coffee tables. The purple-and-yellow color scheme managed to be cheerful and soothing at the same time. Sandwiches, potpies, and thick soups dominated the menu.
Katie and Matt went to the counter to place their orders.
Bella Peterson was in her midtwenties with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a sweet smile. She blushed as Matt stepped to the counter.
“Hi, Dr. Gregor. What can I get for y
ou?” She fumbled for a pen and dropped it along with her order pad. Her face was even redder when she stood up after retrieving them.
“Just a regular coffee, please.”
“Dr. LeClair?” Bella turned to Katie.
“English breakfast tea, please.”
“Will do. I’ll bring it out in just a minute.” Bella gestured at the seating area.
Katie and Matt chose a cluster of comfy chairs with a beat-up wooden table in the center.
“How is it going with the Hawkinses’ practice?” Matt asked.
“Pretty well so far. I like the patients.”
Matt raised an eyebrow. “But the partners leave something to be desired?”
Katie had learned long ago that medicine was a small community. For all she knew, Matt and Nick Hawkins were the best of friends.
“No, I didn’t mean that. Emmett is wonderful. And Nick is a good doctor. The pain clinic is doing really well, and I think it’s adding a great service to the area.”
Matt waited, a half smile on his lips.
“Nick just takes some getting used to,” Katie said. “He’s a bit harder to get to know than his father.”
Matt snorted. “You’re very diplomatic. Nick Hawkins is a prima donna, except his ego is bigger.”
So not best friends.
Katie smiled but didn’t encourage him. She didn’t want to gossip about Nick or talk to Matt about her practice.
“What’s it like to be in practice with your father?” Katie asked.
Matt tilted his head side to side in a so-so gesture. “I’ve been there for about a year, so I know what Nick and Emmett have to navigate. I cut back on my hours a couple months ago and started doing locums work. I like the flexibility, the money is good, and I don’t have to deal with my father as much.”
Katie had only ever heard good things about Dr. Gregor senior. He was revered at the medical school and had won teacher of the year on several occasions. He was the go-to guy for tough internal medicine cases. But Katie knew very well that the public face could be quite different from the private one. And dealing with a highly regarded parent probably wasn’t easy.