“Katharine, as you are well aware, this hepatitis debacle has cost St. Augustine dearly.”
“I’m fully aware,” Katharine responded, her expression blank. Inwardly, Katharine’s pulse quickened, fearing where her long-time friend fit into Keith Jones’ agenda.
Keith lowered his eyebrows. “As you know, every doctor involved in litigation to this point has surrendered without incident. The lawsuits have been settled discreetly, and the physicians have been allowed to continue unhindered in their careers.”
Eager to get to the point, Katharine demanded, “And?”
Keith’s grin was so sinister, it caused Katharine to catch her breath. She did her best to conceal her discomfort.
“There seems to be a little problem with Dr. Reiner.” Keith searched Katharine’s face for any hint of knowledge as to Jenna’s position.
“What kind of problem?” Katharine uncrossed her legs and clutched the armrests of her chair.
Keith stood and paced behind his desk. After several passes, he stopped and glared at Katharine.
“Jenna Reiner’s in the midst of settlement negotiations, which is a smart move on her part. The problem is, the attorney from her malpractice carrier, a Mr. Randy Stevens, and the plaintiff’s attorney don’t see eye-to-eye on a reasonable settlement amount. I get the impression that Randy Stevens has taken a special interest in Dr. Reiner. In other cases, Mr. Stevens has readily compromised. With Jenna Reiner, however, he seems to have a personal mission to save her honor.”
Katharine intuitively surmised where the conversation was headed, but chose to play the fool. “What does this have to do with me?”
Keith walked around his desk and sat next to Katharine. He reached out and grabbed the armrest of her chair. Katharine glanced down. Keith’s skin nearly touched her arm, and she felt the heat of his flesh radiate from his hands. Ironically, the contrast in their skin color, dark black against pasty white, exemplified the stark contrast in their motivations and sense of honor.
The CEO spoke in a low, soft tone. Katharine was forced to move closer to him in order to make out his words.
“I know you and Jenna Reiner are personal friends. I saw you two last summer, in the courtyard. Jenna Reiner was crying. The two of you hugged. You know her. What will break her?”
Shaking her head in disbelief, Katharine said, “You’re mistaken. We are nothing more than colleagues. I’m afraid I can’t answer your question.”
Keith walked over to a concealed liquor cabinet and poured himself a glass of scotch. With his back to Katharine, he asked, “Can I get you some?”
Katharine’s mouth went dry. “No. Thank you,” she replied coldly.
Taking a drink, Keith turned around and directed his power and ruthlessness at Katharine. “You know, Katharine, I have great admiration for you. You are an incredibly gifted physician. Additionally, you have overcome the burden of being a woman in a male-dominated profession and have very successfully climbed your way to the top.”
He let his words sink in.
“Your re-appointment as Medical Staff President occurs in less than six months. I’ve reviewed your file. It’s impeccable. It would be such a travesty after all those years of scratching your way to the top, to end up all for none. So, let me ask you again, what will break Dr. Reiner?”
Katharine’s gut turned, her mouth salivated, and she was certain she might vomit at any moment. Closing her eyes, Katharine thought about Jenna. Jenna, the one who had always been there to encourage her. Jenna, the one who had never once failed her. Then Katharine thought about her own family. She was the martyr – the only one of her six siblings who had escaped the confines of poverty to rise to the top. Katharine thought of her mother, sacrificing herself as she tirelessly worked two jobs and single-handedly raised her children. Now that her mother had passed, that responsibility fell onto Katharine’s shoulders. She could not let her mother down.
Slowly, Katharine opened her eyes and bore into the gaze of Keith Jones.
In barely more than a whisper, Katharine replied, “The press. She’s terrified of the press.”
A smile swept across Keith’s face. Not waiting to be excused, Katharine stormed out of his office, slamming the door behind her.
Silently, Katharine prayed for forgiveness.
CHAPTER 50
The Reiners were enjoying their second week of paradise. Jenna started to relax and become her old self again. Sprawled out under a beach umbrella, soaking up the tropical sun, Jenna heard the muffled sounds of her phone ringing from inside a beach bag. Digging through bottles of sunblock and beach toys, she found the phone by the third ring. Caller ID displayed “Mountain Anesthesia Consultants.” Jenna wondered what would compel her office to intrude on her vacation.
Curtly, she answered, “Hello?”
“Jenna? This is Rob Wilson. I know you’re on vacation, and I’m sorry to bother you.”
Rob’s voice sounded off. Maybe it was the connection, but Jenna sensed danger.
Jenna stood, walking away from the crashing waves and the laughter of the beach crowd. “What’s up?”
“I hate to be the one to tell you this.”
Suddenly oblivious to her surroundings, Jenna could no longer hear the ocean or feel the warm, moist air upon her skin. Her entire world filtered down to what Rob was about to disclose.
“Tell me what?”
Rob felt sorry for Jenna. Knowing how hard this lawsuit had been on her, it was anguishing to be the bearer of bad news. He hesitated for a second and then forced himself to speak.
“We got a call this morning from a reporter, Kyle Lewis, from the Tribune. He’s demanding a statement from you. Jenna, you need to call your attorneys. Immediately.”
Jenna’s world spun as she stood alone in the sand with her phone to her ear. A child ran by and scattered sand in her direction, bringing her back into reality.
“Jenna, I’m so sorry.”
“Me too,” Jenna said as she hung up the phone.
Tom and Mia approached her, and their smiles instantly faded. Jenna’s entire body was trembling. Mia was frightened. Instinctively, Mia threw her arms around Jenna and asked, “Mommy, what’s wrong?”
Looking at her family, Jenna said callously, “Well, it looks like I made the news!”
Jenna watched Tom’s face as he registered the words. “I need to call Jim and Nancy.
Jenna walked away from the crowded beach and dialed her lawyer. Nancy answered on the second ring.
“Nancy, what the hell is going on?”
“I’m honestly not sure. Kyle Lewis from the Tribune has called both Jim and me repeatedly this morning. We are not responding. You should not respond either, understood?”
“You know I’m smarter than that. Why would the press bite on this now? You said this would all be over!”
Nancy reminded herself to keep her calm, for Jenna’s sake. “What is going on is that we are miles apart on dollar amounts for settlement. Anders is demanding eight hundred thousand dollars. That’s higher than any other demand she’s made so far. Randy Stevens started his negotiations at fifty thousand. He’s playing hardball, and he’s not willing to budge.
“Obviously, Anders has members of the press in her back pocket. She can’t get Randy to budge, but she knows if she puts pressure on you through public humiliation, you can pressure him to settle.”
“Why didn’t you tell me the negotiations weren’t going well? You made it sound like this was a done deal.” Jenna tried to keep her voice down, but she was furious.
Nancy responded with remorse, “At first, we truly believed that both sides would reach a compromise. We didn’t foresee any problems, and we wanted you to be able to go away and not have to worry about this. Now both sides have clearly drawn a line in the sand, and Allison Anders just increased the stakes.”
Jenna sighed heavily into the phone, “When is this story supposed to print?”
“The reporter wanted us to comment by Wednesday, so I’
m assuming it will print on Thursday or Friday.”
Seized by bitterness, there was nothing more for Jenna to say. Even the distance of the Pacific Ocean could not hinder Allison Anders from taking yet another part of Jenna’s life away from her.
The only thing Jenna could be thankful for was that Mia would be three thousand miles away from home when the story broke.
CHAPTER 51
Jenna, Tom, and Mia arrived home early Saturday morning. Nauseated and exhausted from the red-eye flight, Jenna and Mia stumbled up to Mia’s bedroom, and Jenna tucked her in for a nap. Once Mia fell asleep, Jenna rushed down to the computer and checked for the story in the Tribune. Nancy thought it would have been published a couple days prior, but so far nothing had materialized. Unable to deal with her mounting anxiety, Jenna called Nancy.
“What do you think is going on? Do you think they’re waiting for Sunday?” Jenna asked, panicked.
Nancy replied, “I have no way to know for sure. It’s highly probable that the Tribune’s editor rejected the story. It’s clearly not newsworthy. There have been no recent developments, and the trial is two months away. We’ve seen stuff like this before. Reporters contact us for comment, and the story never transpires. This is beginning to have that sort of feel.
“Besides, there are bigger stories to put in the Sunday paper. I know this is the last thing you want to hear, but all we can do is sit back and wait until tomorrow.”
For the remainder of the day, Jenna moved like a zombie. Attempting to suppress the thoughts of seeing her name in the Sunday paper, Jenna tried to keep herself occupied. She put away the luggage, did the laundry, walked the dog, and watched a movie with Mia. Still, Jenna remained plagued by her fear of the unknown.
Sunday morning, Jenna woke before sunrise and proceeded into her home office to check the Tribune’s website. Her hands trembled as she manipulated the mouse, fearing that around the next virtual corner, her name would appear. To Jenna’s relief and astonishment, however, there was nothing. She hoped Nancy was right, and the story would never be printed. Relieved, she slipped back into bed with Tom, but never fell back to sleep.
Monday morning at five o’clock, Jenna’s alarm clock blared, shaking her from a fitful sleep. She reached over, shut it off, and reluctantly got out of bed. Jenna shuffled through the dark into the office. She felt less anxious after Sunday passed without incident, but was compelled to check nonetheless.
Jenna clicked the mouse, and the Tribune’s home page displayed on the computer screen. She could hear her pulse bounding through her temples as she read the top headline, “Anesthesiologist Disregards Practice Guidelines in Hepatitis C Outbreak.”
“No, no, no!” Jenna nearly jumped out of her skin. She could barely manipulate the mouse, but she forced herself to read the text.
The article began by recapping Hillary Martin’s crimes. The next four paragraphs provided a heart-wrenching account of Michelle Hollings and how her life had been destroyed.
Then came the assault on Jenna.
“Prominent doctors argue they don’t have a duty to lock up narcotics, despite the 2010 operating room theft and fraud by Hillary Martin. Martin’s diversion of Fentanyl resulted in the infection of over thirty patients with hepatitis C.
“Dr. Phillip Ramano, a local anesthesiologist, will testify that doctors don’t have a duty to lock up drugs like Fentanyl. He will serve as an expert witness in the January trial of Dr. Jenna Reiner.
“Dr. Reiner also maintains that she did not have that responsibility. According to court documents, Dr. Reiner considers drug diversions part of ‘urban legend.’ Dr. Reiner is expected to testify that her practice was reasonable and met the applicable standard of care. In her deposition, Dr. Reiner contends that anesthesiologists do not have a duty to prevent diversion of controlled substances within the OR.”
Jenna could hardly focus on the words through her tears.
“The defense strategy and expert testimony by Dr. Ramano contradicts federal guidelines and practices of other anesthesiologists.
“Reiner’s attorneys present an alternative theory for how patients were infected with hepatitis C. A defense expert will testify the infections could have come from contaminated saline that Hillary Martin used to refill stolen syringes. The defense will argue that if the infection came from the saline, and not from the Fentanyl syringe used by Dr. Reiner, that would be an intervening cause that would remove blame from the doctor.”
The article concluded with a message aimed directly at Jenna.
“There is still the potential for the case to be settled before trial, but Michelle Hollings is ready to see these issues aired again in public.
“‘More people need to know what’s going on in their hospitals. It’s stupid for the anesthesiologists to say they have no fault whatsoever, when they were the ones in control of all of it,’ said Hollings, whose hepatitis C counts have been tamped down by treatments, but will always have a chance of recurring.”
Jenna could not believe the extent of mischaracterization and slander. The article served as the ultimate checkmate. For Jenna, the threat had been acknowledged, and the message had been received.
CHAPTER 52
Jenna stumbled past Tom on her way to the bathroom. Standing in front of the mirror, she tried to put in her contact lenses. Lifting the lens to her eye, her hand shook so wildly she was forced to give up. Tom walked in behind his wife, unaware of what he was about to encounter.
“Good morning,” Tom said, smiling sleepily. He rubbed the stubble on his chin and snuggled up behind Jenna, kissing her neck. Jenna remained still, paralyzed. Once Tom caught Jenna’s reflection in the mirror, his heart sank. “What happened?”
Jenna attempted to answer, but could not. Her emotional state went beyond tears, grief, and agony. She was only able to mutter, “Article. Tribune. So bad.”
Tom darted off to the office and returned ten minutes later, looking nearly as ghastly as Jenna. However, whereas Jenna was broken and devastated, Tom was consumed with fury.
Forgetting about their sleeping daughter, Tom started ranting. “That article is complete bullshit! It’s so totally biased, I’m shocked they can get away with publishing it. I’ll bet Anders wrote it herself and then passed it over to the reporter. Everything in it was taken out of context and manipulated to make you look like the devil. How can they print such crap?”
Jenna was oblivious to her husband. Her mind raced in a million directions. She had cases scheduled to start in ninety minutes. There was no way she could go to work. She could not let Mia see her like this. She wanted to die.
“I have to call Katharine Harper.”
Sitting alone on the stairs in the dim morning light, Jenna dialed Katharine’s cell phone. It was 6:15, and Katharine would certainly be awake.
“Hello,” Katharine Harper answered, sounding sluggish.
Jenna tried to speak, but only sobs emerged from her mouth.
Unable to identify the voice from the unintelligible grunts on the other line, Katharine held the phone away from her ear and read Jenna’s name from caller ID. Jenna sounded so distraught, Katharine feared something catastrophic had happened to Tom or Mia.
“Jenna? What’s wrong?”
Jenna inhaled and spilled the horrid details. “Katharine, the Tribune ran an article on me today. It’s bad. Really bad.”
Katharine’s throat tightened.
“What am I going to do?” Jenna wailed. “What if a patient sees the article and recognizes my name? What if my partners shun me? What if the surgeons don’t want to work with me?”
Ravaged by guilt, Katharine attempted to console her friend.
“Listen here, you’re one of the best damn anesthesiologists around. I don’t give a rat’s behind about some article in the paper.”
“But Katharine, now everyone will know.”
“Know what? That a drug addict preyed upon you? That you are one of many other doctors in the same boat? That some reporter is corrupt
?”
Jenna was breathing in ragged gasps, and she broke into a cold sweat. “They’ll think I’m worthless, stupid, and incompetent. They’ll think I destroyed my patient’s life.”
Pools of saliva flooded Jenna’s mouth. She could not swallow quickly enough to keep it down.
“I’ve got to go.”
“Wait . . .” Katharine called out as Jenna hung up. Sitting alone in her kitchen, listening to the dial tone, Katharine said, “My God. What did I do?”
**********
Jenna made it to the bathroom just in time to lift the toilet seat and wretch. She spit the taste of bile into the toilet and wiped her mouth with a tissue. Her legs wobbled as she stood to flush the toilet. Staggering into her closet, she did her best to dress herself.
“Are you going to be okay?” asked Tom. He sat on the edge of the bathtub, watching Jenna battle to pull a shirt over her head.
She responded honestly, “No, I’m not.”
Jenna glanced at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were bloodshot and hollow, like her soul had been scooped out of her body, leaving her with nothing.
Before Jenna left for work, she sent emails to her attorneys. The correspondence was blunt. “We need to meet TODAY. I will head over when done with cases. DO NOT PROCEED WITH ANY FURTHER SETTLEMENT NEGOTIATIONS UNTIL WE TALK!”
“Please take care of Mia,” she said to Tom as she left the house. Refusing to let Mia see her in such a state, Jenna forfeited their daily ritual of kissing goodbye.
Miraculously, Jenna arrived at the hospital without crashing her vehicle. She had no memory of the drive. In the parking garage, she circled through several levels until she reached the top. It was deserted. Shutting off the engine, Jenna rested her head on the leather steering wheel. Clutching her stomach, her eyes overflowed and her shoulders heaved as misery seeped from Jenna’s pores.
Minutes later, another car pulled up and parked near Jenna. Wiping her face, she collected her things and walked to the elevator.
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