Off the Record
Page 8
Picking up the phone in the kitchen, she started making calls, minus the canned script. She received mixed reactions. Some people had medical reasons for why they couldn’t donate, and others were going to be out of town that day. But the majority responded positively when they were “encouraged” to donate. That was one of Renee’s words that Kate kept in her personal script. Since she knew almost everyone on the list, a number of them wanted to chat, so the calling took longer than she’d anticipated.
When the hands on the kitchen clock edged past seven, Kate skipped to Loretta’s number. The phone rang and rang, but no one picked up, and the call didn’t go to voice mail. Kate hung up, brow puckered. She knew Loretta had an answering machine. Maybe it was out of order.
Kate continued her calls for another fifteen minutes and then returned to Loretta. Again, no answer and no machine. Maybe she should check with LuAnne to see what was up. The waitress wasn’t on her call list, but she could pitch the blood drive anyway and ask about Loretta at the same time. LuAnne answered after the second ring. They talked about the blood drive, and the waitress pledged to donate.
“I’ve been trying to contact Loretta,” Kate told her. “Did she have something going on tonight after work?”
“Not that I’m aware of,” LuAnne said. “But you already know how funny she’s been actin’. I worry about her. I’ve driven by her place different nights on purpose, and I’m sure she’s home, but the house is dark. The only sign of life is the faint blue flicker of a television set.”
“Hmm.” Maybe Loretta was trying to avoid collection-agency calls. “I’ll have to keep at it or find some other way to connect with her.”
“Yeah. You need to talk to her. And, um...” A silent second passed. “Well, my conscience got to botherin’ me, so I went ahead and confessed that I spilled the beans to you. She was plenty mad at first, but she calmed down after about half a day of steamin’ like a kettle of collard greens. Then she sort of grumpily admitted that if I had to tell somebody, she’s glad it was you. She knows you’ll keep the predicament under your hat, and maybe even figure out something helpful. Any progress on findin’ answers?”
Kate sighed. “I still have mostly questions. And some of them I need to ask Loretta...if only she’d answer her phone. Do you think the collection agencies are after her that much that she’s not picking up her phone at all?”
“You got me. But you’ll probably have to run her down and sit on her to get those answers you want. As flighty as she’s bein’ about this, she sure won’t approach you with anything.”
Kate bit her lip. Poor Loretta. “Gotcha.”
“Let me know if I can help. I wouldn’t mind a little sleuthin’ if I know where to look or who to ask.”
“I’ll keep you in mind, Ms. Marple.”
LuAnne giggled and said good-bye.
Kate tried Loretta’s number again and got only the frustrating ring in her ear. She hung up, chewing her lower lip. For crusty Loretta Sweet to hide in her house and refuse to answer the phone, the woman must really be spooked. No one should have to live like that.
Kate gathered up her handbag and told Paul she was going to see Loretta. Surely the woman would come to her door if she saw it was only Kate.
Drifting her car up to the curb across the street from Loretta’s house, Kate detected no signs of life inside. But then, with every curtain pulled tightly closed, it would be hard while daylight lingered to tell if anyone was home. Kate crossed the quiet street, went up the sidewalk to the front door, and pressed the doorbell. No approaching footsteps responded from inside.
She opened the outer screen door and rapped on the inner wood panel. “Loretta!” she called. “It’s me. Kate. I’d like to talk to you.”
Moments of silence passed. Where was that woman? Was she all right? Finally steps approached, and the door rattled, then crept open a few inches.
A pale, lined face peered out. “Ah, Kate. It is you.”
Kate wrinkled her nose. “Did you think someone might be impersonating me?”
Loretta sniffed. “Bill collectors can be clever. Don’t I know it!” The woman thrust the door wide, grabbed Kate by the arm, and dragged her into a narrow, dark foyer.
Kate blinked to adjust her eyes to the dimness. “I’ve been trying to call you about donating at the blood drive, but when you didn’t answer your phone, I got worried.”
Loretta hung her head, gaze fixed on the braided rug beneath their feet. “LuAnne confessed she told you about my problem.”
Kate placed a comforting hand on Loretta’s arm. “She only said something because she cares about you.”
“I know.” The woman’s head lifted. “And I decided I don’t mind you knowin’. Just you and the pastor, though.” She wagged a finger at Kate.
“Don’t worry.” Kate shook her head. “I haven’t told another soul. Have collectors been coming to your door?”
The woman clutched a ratty green housecoat around her wiry figure. “Just phone calls...so far. C’mon in and take a load off.” She waved Kate after her as she turned and shuffled in slippered feet into a living room stuffed with the clunky wide-wood furniture of the early 1980s.
Evidently, Loretta wasn’t one to spend money on creature comforts. The bulky sofa and overstuffed chair wore tan slipcovers. Not much adorned the cream-colored walls, and a nearly antique Magnavox television took up one corner. Even the air smelled old, as if the house hadn’t been aired since the furniture was brought in.
“Have a seat.” Loretta pointed at the chair.
Kate perched on the edge with her handbag on her knees. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Loretta plopped onto the couch, her chin quivering. “I can’t describe what it’s like. I don’t dare answer the phone. I’m scared to go to the door. Simple grocery shopping is an ordeal. I feel like people are starin’ at me. Like they know.” She pulled in a ragged breath. “I can hardly make myself slink off to work. It’s—” The tears that had threatened gushed forth, and Loretta pressed her hands to her face.
Kate moved to the sofa and wrapped her arms around the sobbing woman. Loretta’s slight frame shook, and Kate’s heart pulsed. Whatever...whoever had put an innocent person in this predicament needed to be stopped. Kate patted Loretta’s back until the heaving shoulders stilled.
“There has to be a way to get that clinic to see the truth,” she told Loretta.
Sniffling, the woman uncovered her face and shook her head. Tears glistened on her cheeks. “I surefire don’t know how. They’re threatenin’ to garnish my income. I might not be able to keep the diner goin’ if they do that.” A pair of desperate eyes fixed on Kate. “Can you help?”
“I’m looking into some things, but—”
“Oh, thank you!” Loretta wrapped Kate in a giant hug.
Gently Kate disengaged herself and offered the woman a tissue from her purse. Loretta wiped at her face while Kate resumed her seat on the overstuffed chair.
Now was a good time to ask the diner owner some questions that had been running through her head. “Do you have any idea how the Mayo Clinic could have gotten your name and address into their system? Have you ever contacted them? Written to them for information? Accessed their Web site and signed up for something?”
Loretta shook her head, strands of graying hair bobbing with the motion. “I have as little as possible to do with hospitals and clinics. Not after the way they did my mo—” The words cut off with a bitter grimace. “Well, never mind ancient history.” She flapped a hand. “It’s not just the Mayo Clinic demanding payment. Saint Mary’s Hospital in Rochester is billing me too, and they’ve both got more than a name and address. They’ve got my insurance information. The company’s already paid out thousands of dollars on claims that aren’t mine, and I’m stuck with the rest.”
Kate twined her fingers together in her lap. “Who have you contacted about the bills?”
“Right away I told my insurance to quit payin’ them because they weren�
��t mine. But that just ended up leavin’ more for me when the clinic and hospital wouldn’t believe that I was never a cancer patient. I’ve talked to people in their business offices till I’m blue in the face.” Loretta spread helpless hands. “To them, I’m the liar, and their precious computer system is God’s voice in their ears.”
Kate sat back with a huff. This was alarming new information. “Have you hired a lawyer?”
Loretta snorted. “What’s one of them shysters gonna do for me? Besides, it’d cost me more money. Nope”—she shook her head with the vigor of a dog shaking off water—“my faith is in you, Kate Hanlon.”
Kate swallowed a rush of dismay. “I hope you’re looking to someone a lot higher than me.”
The restaurant owner let out a gruff chuckle. “You mean the Man Upstairs? Sure. I’m prayin’, and I know you and Pastor Paul are prayin’ for me too.”
“You know the old saying about God helping those who help themselves?” Kate fixed a steady gaze on Loretta. “That advice has been abused by self-serving people, but in your case, those words are true. Hiding behind locked doors and hoping this problem will go away on its own isn’t getting you anywhere.” She kept her tone firm, though the other woman’s lower lip had begun to tremble again. “You need to get legal counsel right away. There may be options you haven’t explored. At the very least, a lawyer may know how to get the collections procedures halted, pending investigation.”
Loretta scowled, face firming, and crossed her arms. “I’ll think about it, but I’m makin’ no promises.”
Kate’s gaze fell to the green shag carpet. How could she help someone who resisted doing the most basic thing to help herself? What did Loretta have against doctors and lawyers? There had to be more to her story, but Loretta’s mulish look didn’t bode well for getting answers right now.
Kate let out a sigh. “One thing you can do right away is get yourself a phone with caller ID capability. There’s no reason you should barricade yourself in your house and not even answer the phone. And I need you to think hard about seeking professional advice.”
She rose and put her hand on Loretta’s shoulder. “I want to help you, I really do...”
“But?” Loretta stared at her warily.
“I’m not a professional, and I don’t know anything about how medical billing works.” Kate shook her head. “And if there’s something about this situation that you’re hiding, a lawyer might not even be able to help you, much less an amateur like me.”
Chapter Twelve
Wednesday found Kate caught up in a flurry of projects on the home front. Her mind lingered on her conversation with Loretta. She’d left the woman still holding on to whatever secret kept her from going to a lawyer. And why did she dislike doctors too? Something about “ancient history.” A family tragedy? And were the incidents with the lawyer and the doctor connected?
But Kate’s own life issues required her attention at the moment. Two stained-glass orders were due to customers, and the forecast threatened rain for Thursday, so she needed to finish prepping her garden plots for seed and bedding plants. All morning, the phone rang off and on while she was finishing those glass projects—one of the hazards of being a pastor’s wife. Then a minor emergency with the Faith Freezer Program demanded a couple of hours of her time over at the house next door, where the meals for shut-ins were made.
After that, she made a run downtown for some household supplies and dropped off the glass pieces at Smith Street Gifts. Soon she left the gift shop with another tidy little check to put toward an outfit she’d been eyeing online. Then she decided she might as well stop into Emma Blount’s ice-cream parlor and speak to her in person about the blood drive, since Emma was on her list.
A waft of cool air and sweet, fruity scents welcomed her as she stepped through the door. She stopped just over the threshold. Was that Peggy Brower, the blood-drive coordinator, paying for an ice-cream cone at the marble counter? The woman turned. It was her. Kate hurried forward, smiling, and Peggy’s face registered surprise, then an answering smile.
“How nice,” Kate said. “You’re still in town.”
The woman chuckled. “Copper Mill is a welcoming community, but no, I’ve been hither and yon, and now I’m passing back through on my way to somewhere else. I just had to stop and pick up a scoop of this decadent Peanut Butter Melt-a-Way.” She lifted her double-dip sugar cone. “Do you have time to sit a minute and visit while I devour this?”
“I’d be happy to.” Kate dug into her handbag. “Let me grab something, and I’ll join you.”
A minute later, after saying hello to Emma, she sat across from Peggy at a round table with a scoop of frozen lemon custard in a plastic dish.
Peggy cocked a head at Kate. “You’re a very interesting woman, Kate Hanlon.”
“How so?” Kate stopped her spoon on its way to her mouth.
“Renee tells me you solve mysteries. She’s got you pegged right up there with the great detectives of history, with herself as your indispensable sidekick, of course.” The woman smirked.
Kate laughed, though a hint of warmth spread across her cheeks. “My husband tells me I have an inquiring mind. And I do love puzzles. I guess I’ve sort of fallen into a few situations around town that needed figuring out. Mostly, I just like to help people if I can. Very unofficial.”
“Are you helping someone unofficially these days?” Peggy waggled her brows. “I read mysteries all the time in lonely hotel rooms, so I’m tickled to meet a real sleuth.”
“Well...” Kate shrugged and tapped her lower lip. “There is a situation that might pique your interest since you’re in health care. A friend’s mother recently had an episode of anaphylactic shock from receiving the wrong medication. One of the people involved claims that chart tampering caused the incident.”
“Oh my! That’s serious.” The nurse’s voice lost its lighthearted tone.
Kate nodded and set down her spoon. “Can you give me any insight as to how such a thing might happen?”
Peggy took a bite of her ice cream and savored it thoughtfully. “If it was deliberate and not some mistake in data entry, someone with access would have had to do it. And they’d need to know how to erase the history from the computer.”
Hmm. Here was an angle on the incident involving Shirley Kraemer that Kate hadn’t considered. Data entry? Erase the history? “I thought patient charts were primarily on paper forms that might end up on the computer sometime down the road.”
Peggy shook her head. “Not anymore. Information is entered and coded electronically and then printed out and placed into the paper chart. Your most complete patient record is generally going to be found on the computer.”
“Really! Here I thought it was the other way around.” Kate’s gaze fastened on her half-eaten scoop of custard.
If Carla Trexler was telling the truth about the missing medication order, she might have found it on the computer rather than the hard copy in the chart. She’d have to ask the young nurse about that. Kate had only seen one person that day working on both the paper chart and the computer: the mystery woman from administration. Finding out who she was had just become a priority.
“Penny for your thoughts.”
Kate met Peggy’s inquiring look. “Sorry. I was—”
“Deducing?” Peggy smiled.
Kate returned her grin. “Sort of. Thank you for that bit of information. It gives me a fresh direction for my questions.”
“Glad to be of help.” Peggy nodded and crunched a bit of her cone along with a mouthful of ice cream. “This is absolutely fabulous! I don’t know anyplace in the city that carries this yummy flavor of ice cream.”
Kate laughed. “I’m glad Copper Mill is able to provide a distinctive attraction for you. In your travels, the towns must blur into one another.”
“They can, but it’s also very interesting work. I get to meet people like you, for instance, and help solve a mystery. Any more intriguing tidbits you can share?”
“A trend?” Peggy polished off her cone, picked up a napkin, and began to wipe her fingers.
“Yes, I was surfing the Net and discovered that medical errors are on the rise in Tennessee, particularly in the Chattanooga system.”
The nurse stopped wiping. She cleared her throat, blinked, then pursed her lips and shook her head. “I did know that, and it is worrisome, but we’re hoping the pendulum swings the other way shortly. I can assure you”—the woman reached over and laid a warm hand atop Kate’s on the table—“that quality of care is monitored very strictly by the state. This isn’t really my area of expertise, but there are people looking into tighter regulations and better systems to help get our error rate back down where it should be.”
Kate planted her elbows on the table and leaned her chin on one hand. “You’re saying not to worry about it?”
Peggy laughed. “I’m saying the experts are on the case in that area, so you can retire your magnifying glass.”
Kate chuckled and sat back. As she’d suspected, the medical community was aware of the issue, and they were working on it, which was a relief. Maybe the alleged chart tampering at Orchard Hill was the exception to the rule, not part of the larger picture. In looking for a connection between that event and Loretta’s medical-bill problems, she could be wasting her time because there wasn’t any. Did she dare assume that?
Peggy rose and headed for the garbage bin with her napkin. Kate followed with her custard-smeared dish.