“Needless to say, I didn’t walk on.” Nehemiah’s gray gaze narrowed. “I told him I was going to alert someone right away, but he blocked my path, and when I tried to go around him, he gave me a shove that made me fall. I caught myself on my left arm, and that’s how I sprained my wrist.”
“Are you telling me”—Lucy Mae puffed up stiff—“that this person wasn’t fired after such behavior?”
Nehemiah took a soft slurp from his cup. “No one witnessed the incident. I was on the floor when Rita stepped out of the apartment. She saw Mr. Hancock leanin’ over me, but the man insisted I tripped, and he was just tryin’ to help me up. Of course, I told my version loud and clear to Nurse Pritchard and then to the administrator. I have no doubt they believed me over an employee who’s only been here a few months, but what could they do?”
“Press charges,” Kate said.
Nehemiah shook his head. “They needed somethin’ more than my word against his. That’s why they requested the drug test, and the man quit on the spot rather than submit to it.”
“Highly suspicious behavior.” Lucy Mae sniffed.
“Ya think?” Loretta huffed.
Nehemiah set his cup on a side table. “We need to pray for Stephen Hancock. I suspect the man needs help.”
“He has to want help,” Kate said.
“And that’s exactly what we should pray—that he would want to get clean.”
Kate smiled and shook her head. “You’re an amazing man, Nehemiah Jacobs. If the injured party is requesting prayer for his attacker, how can we refuse?”
Lucy Mae scowled. “I still think it’s an outrage that the man is getting away scot-free. There need to be consequences.”
“There are always consequences for our actions.” Nehemiah spoke in a gentle but firm tone. “Sometimes those consequences come later rather than sooner, but unless we repent and change course, they always come.”
The conversation turned to lighter matters as they sipped their tea. Kate finished hers first and carried her cup into the kitchenette.
“I’d like to go talk to Nurse Pritchard before we leave, so I’ll let y’all finish your tea while I step out for a minute.”
Kate left the apartment and headed for the elevator. A few doors down, a familiar figure emerged from an apartment.
“Margo Meyers?”
The woman turned and sent Kate a questioning smile.
“Kate Hanlon.” Kate offered her hand, and Margo took it.
“Oh yes! You’re the friend of Nehemiah’s with questions about the EMR. Pleased to meet you.”
“Are you back to work or visiting?” She inclined her head toward the apartment Margo had just left.
The woman offered a tired smile. “Neither. My husband and I have been caring for my mother in our home for years. She’s diabetic and has some other progressive health issues, so it’s finally gotten to be too much. She’s going to live here now. We’re moving her in today.”
“Ahh.” Kate nodded. “It’ll be a change for everyone, but hopefully, a good one. This is a nice place.”
“Thanks. At least working here, I’ll get to see her every day. I’m on my way upstairs now to sign the admission papers and make the financial arrangements.” She leaned toward Kate and touched her hand. “Thank goodness we took out long-term-care insurance on her a couple of years ago, or our only option might have been a state-run nursing home.” Margo shuddered.
Kate nodded. “I can understand your preference for Orchard Hill.” Interesting that the medical-records director had been dealing for some time with expenses for an ailing parent. Income from medical-records identity theft would be very welcome in such a case. “You’re going up, and I’m going down.” Kate waved toward the elevator. “But we can share the ride.”
They made small talk while the elevator rose to the third floor. Kate lifted a hand in a wave and smiled at Margo when she got off, then pushed the button to go down to the first floor.
Kate pursed her lips. Margo had only been at Orchard Hill for around two years, about the time that the spike in medical errors started showing up. Did the two-year statistic signal the start of the identity thefts? The deduction made sense.
Did that mean Margo was in on the scheme? Not necessarily. But living in a place like Orchard Hill was expensive. Margo claimed she took out a long-term-care policy on her mother about two years ago. Did she really, or was the coincidental timing not a coincidence? Maybe the “insurance” was actually income from an illegal source.
On the first floor, Kate found Nurse Pritchard behind the counter with her head bent over some paperwork. She cleared her throat as she approached, and the woman looked up. Her gaze was grim.
Kate stopped an arm’s length from the counter. “Thank you for notifying me right away about Nehemiah. That was very kind of you.”
The nurse rose, her color high. “Standard procedure, Mrs. Hanlon.”
“Well, I’m grateful anyway.”
“You’re welcome.” She paused with a deep frown. “I’m sure Nehemiah told you what happened. I can’t tell you how...This is not...I don’t...” With every false start and stop, Nurse Pritchard wrung her hands.
“It’s distressing.” Kate nodded.
The nurse expelled a breath. “To say the least. And he came so highly recommended.” She shook her head.
“By whom?” Kate stepped a little closer.
Nurse Pritchard’s gaze fell away. “Some bigwig friend of our Health Information Management director. We were all taken in, I assure you.” Her expression begged for understanding.
Margo again? But Kate was careful to keep the surprise from showing on her face.
She smiled. “The best of us can be deceived by appearances at times.”
The woman’s gaze flashed gratitude for the understanding response.
Kate returned to Nehemiah’s apartment, her thoughts scurrying. What kind of bigwig friend would recommend a man like Stephen Hancock for employment? If that was the sort of people Margo Meyers hung out with, maybe she was in cahoots with the thieves, and maybe this bigwig was her boss. Those news articles had been serious in warning about the involvement of organized crime in medical-record fraud.
Chapter Twenty-Four
After leaving Orchard Hill, the three women paid a brief visit to Lucy Mae’s mother in the hospital. But finally they headed for home, and Loretta nodded off in the passenger seat, her breath coming in soft, even snores. Lucy Mae stared at the road in glum silence as she drove.
“Your mother looked good today for someone who’s been so sick,” Kate offered.
Lucy Mae groaned. “I’m terrified I’m going to lose her just when I’ve begun to truly know her.”
Kate adjusted her seat belt and stretched her feet in front of her. “I’m glad her shingles are finally responding to treatment, but I take it the doctor had distressing news when he took you aside.”
The other woman slapped the steering wheel. “He says Mother is going to need that pacemaker. They’re scheduling surgery for next week, provided the shingles have cleared up. Another surgery so soon after her hip replacement scares me silly. She’s been under so much stress already.”
“Did you tell the doctor about the errors in her record?”
“I showed him. He was concerned and wants to sit down with me before the surgery to go over everything and make sure they proceed on the correct information.”
“That sounds sensible.” Kate reached forward and patted Lucy Mae’s shoulder. “You’re a good daughter. You’re doing all you can.”
“But what if everything I do isn’t enough?”
A sound like a soft whine escaped Lucy Mae’s lips, and Kate’s heart turned over. “You and your mother are surrounded by a lot of love. Just hang on to that thought.”
So much hurt had come from the greed of these crooks who had invaded people’s privacy and played dice with their lives.
Lucy Mae glanced over her shoulder at Kate, then returned her gaze to the
road. “Kate, I’d appreciate it if you’d look my mom’s file over. I’m so upset by all this, I’m afraid I’m missing something.”
Kate nodded thoughtfully. “I’d be honored to look at it, Lucy Mae. There just might be something in there that would give us a clue.”
“That’s what I’m hoping.” The other woman gave a little bounce in her seat.
Kate gazed out the window, lips pressed together. She’d sit up till morning if she had to in order to find any scrap of information that would expose the thieves.
KATE SNUGGLED INTO PAUL’S EMBRACE and released a long breath. Lucy Mae had just dropped her off at home, and she found Paul in the living room waiting for a supper that was going to be a bit late. He’d taken one look at her face and wrapped his arms around her.
“Tough day?” he said.
Stepping back, she smiled up at him. “Better now, but yes, I’d call it one busy and challenging day.” She squeezed his shoulder. “Did you get my message about Nehemiah?”
Paul answered with a blank stare. “Message?”
“I left one on your cell phone.”
“Oh no!” He smacked his forehead with the heel of his palm. “I had counseling sessions this afternoon and turned it off. Then I forgot to turn it on again. What’s going on with Nehemiah?”
She told him the news about the elderly gentleman’s scuffle with the aide at Orchard Hill. With every word about the event, Paul’s face turned a deeper shade of red.
“I’m a very happy man,” he said when she finished.
“You’re what?” Kate blinked at him.
“I’m happy that Mr. Stephen Hancock isn’t standing before me at this very moment, or I might have actions as well as thoughts to repent about. I’ll give Nehemiah a call after supper.”
“You do that, honey. He’ll put you in a better frame of mind.” She gave his cheek a pat. “How about your day? Any response from your letter in the paper?”
“Not yet.” Paul draped an arm around her shoulder and drew her toward the kitchen. “But people are just getting their newspapers this afternoon. Here’s ours.” He pointed to the Copper Mill Chronicle spread open on the dining table.
“There’s your piece!” Kate tapped an article under a banner that read Letters to the Editor. “Nice position. Top right on the second page.”
Paul shook his head. “That’s nothing special. Letters to the editor always go there.”
“Still, it’s a prominent place for people to see it.”
“Turn to page one for the revelation of the surprise tactic and the secret weapon.”
“Uh-oh!”
Kate closed the paper and stared down at the front page. Paul had circled in black marker a news article in the bottom left corner and a block ad in the opposite corner.
The article headline read STATE VFW PRESIDENT TO GREET BLOOD DONORS. The text promised that Avery Gordon, president of the Tennessee Veterans of Foreign Wars, would be present at the blood drive to personally thank every donor for doing his or her civic duty. The last sentence of the piece revealed that Avery and Joe were army buddies.
Kate laughed. “Vets stick together.”
“Check out the ad,” Paul urged.
Flowery script said In Appreciation, and below, blood donors were promised a coupon book for money off on purchases from local businesses. Then the contributing businesses were listed.
Kate clucked her tongue. “Renee’s been busy. She wrangled deals for donors from nearly every place in town.”
“Deals for donors.” Paul chuckled. “Good slogan. Better not let Renee catch wind of it.”
She shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind her using the phrase for a good cause, but it’s the motive behind these extra efforts that bothers me.”
“No argument here.”
Kate folded the paper and handed it to her husband. “Why don’t you go relax. You could even call Nehemiah now, if you’d like, and I’ll make supper.”
“You’re tired. We could go out.”
“No, thanks.” Kate was already moving toward the refrigerator. “A quiet evening at home sounds heavenly.”
The phone rang.
“I’ll get it,” Paul said as he grabbed the phone.
Kate opened the refrigerator and reached for romaine lettuce and other fresh veggies for a salad.
“Oh, hi, Danny,” Paul said. “What’s up?”
Kate laid the ingredients on her cutting block. The caller must be Danny Jenner, Livvy’s husband and chairman of the church board. Humming, she began to chop radishes and listened to Paul’s end of the conversation with only half an ear.
Paul whooped, and Kate jumped. Her knife plunked onto the cutting board.
“Dear heavens, you about scared me into next week.”
“Sorry, sweetheart. That was Danny Jenner on the phone.”
“I gathered as much.” She retrieved her knife and resumed chopping.
“He said that letter to the editor did more than put the blood drive into perspective for him. It clarified and strengthened his vision for Copper Mill as a community to take pride in. He was so excited, he had to call and tell me.” Paul did a little two-step jig that got a laugh from Kate. “And he’s heard from other folks around town who are feeling the same way. He figures we’re going to get more calls.”
Kate put her knife down and hugged her husband. “Oh, honey, I’m proud of you. See? Your pure heart came through in your words and is already touching people’s lives.”
Paul’s boyish grin filled Kate with warm peace. She needed to quit stressing about the medical-records thieves. Evil people would always be out there scheming and carrying out wicked plans, but God was working too, through his people. She should remember that he always had the last word. He’d worked through Paul to change people’s minds about the blood drive, so why should she doubt that he had a plan to short-circuit a few electronic larcenists?
AFTER SUPPER, Kate settled down at the dining table with Shirley Kraemer’s chart, determined to find something...anything that might give her a lead. Paul was still happily fielding phone calls from enthusiastic townsfolk. A few minutes later, Kate leaped up with a cry that was half laugh, half shriek.
Her husband ran into the kitchen, holding the cordless phone. “What is it? Are you all right?”
Laughing, Kate grabbed him around the waist and whirled him around the room. “Lucy Mae missed a piece of paper that was stuck to another. It’s got the signature of the doctor who did the gall-bladder surgery for the impostor.”
“Woo-hoo!” Paul added a few whirls to their impromptu dance, then the phone jangled again. With a grin as big as the Great Smoky Mountains, he answered. “Hanlon residence. House of victory!”
Giggling, Kate went to her laptop computer and turned it on. If she could decipher the miracle signature, she should be able to locate the doctor through the listing on the American Medical Association Web site. While the computer booted up, Kate studied the doctor’s scrawl. Carla was right. This guy had taken advanced training in illegibility. She consulted Paul, and they both agreed the first name looked like Nolan, but neither of them was sure about the last name. Whoever used the stolen record had been treated by a Nolan Bushnale or Kushnale. Unless it was “nile.” Shaking her head, Kate brought up the AMA Web site.
By the time she and Paul were ready to turn in for the night, the phone had rung fifteen times from people enthusiastic about what Paul had to say. Two of the calls had even come from fellow ministers. And, icing on the cake, Kate had a list of doctors with names approximating the signature in the chart, as well as their business addresses and phone numbers.
“I eliminated the podiatrist from Poughkeepsie,” she told Paul as they crawled into bed.
“Why?” He chuckled. “You don’t think a podiatrist from Poughkeepsie would do a gall-bladder surgery?”
“Oh, you!” She playfully wrinkled her nose at him. “I think I have a lot of phone calls to make in the morning.”
Chapter Twenty-Fi
ve
The next morning, the phone stayed busy as Paul got ready to go to the office, but after he left, the calls tapered off. Most people would know to ring the church at this time of day.
Grateful for peace descending on her home, Kate got her short list of doctors, a notepad, paper, and pen and began her phone calling. Thankfully, the doctor’s name was so unusual that she only had a handful of offices to contact, though one was in Nome, Alaska. But she couldn’t leave that doctor off based on physical distance. A stolen record could travel through cyberspace to a hospital in Alaska just as quickly as one to nearby Pine Ridge.
Every call, without exception, wound up on some physician’s voice mail. A little frustrated but not surprised, since surgeons were notoriously hard to reach, Kate left urgent messages with each one to return the call if they performed gall-bladder surgery on a patient they knew as Shirley Kraemer a few weeks ago. Now came the hard part: waiting for a response.
Cordless handset near at hand on her worktable, Kate got busy on a stained-glass sun catcher. But the phone remained silent. She consulted her watch at nearly ten o’clock. Where had the time gone? She stretched her stiff muscles. Maybe she should take a break and check on Carla Trexler.
Kate sat on the sofa and used her cell phone to call the apartment-building super in case a doctor needed to get through on the home line.
“Hi, this is Kate Hanlon,” she said when the woman answered. “I talked to you yesterday about Carla Trexler.”
“Oh, sure. I still don’t know where she is. Haven’t seen her since Sunday, but she hasn’t moved out anyway. Her stuff is still all there.”
“I’m glad of that.” She rubbed the arm of the sofa with the heel of her hand. “Did you leave her my note?”
“Sure thing.”
“Thank you, then. I hope she contacts me soon.”
Kate said good-bye and flipped her cell phone closed, frowning. Carla’s phone had been shut off, and she hadn’t been seen at her apartment building for days. What was the young nurse doing? Had she decided to go see her father after all?
Returning to her stained-glass project, Kate prayed for Carla, Lucy Mae, Loretta, Mrs. Kraemer, and Nehemiah. Around eleven o’clock, the phone rang, and Kate’s heart went kabump, then she expelled a breath when the caller ID indicated a Chattanooga number. Not a doc returning her call, then.
Off the Record Page 17