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It's Nothing Personal

Page 27

by Gorman MD, Sherry


  Tom knew his wife was overwhelmed. The silence in the room was becoming uncomfortable to everyone. Tom cleared his throat and asked, “What was the ruling?”

  Jim could not look Jenna in the eyes. Watching her reaction was too painful – like watching an animal being euthanized. Instead, Jim looked at Tom and said with sorrow and regret, “Judge Hastings ruled in favor of the plaintiff. Exemplary damage charges will be included in the charges against Jenna.”

  Jenna erupted into sobs. She had fought so hard, remained so strong and determined, and endured so much. Jenna was completely devastated. Looking up at Jim and Nancy, she whispered, “I need a moment alone. Can I go somewhere?”

  Without a moment of hesitation, Nancy stood and put an arm around Jenna, helping her to stand. She led Jenna into her office, miraculously avoiding contact with anyone along the way. Nancy went to shut the door behind her and give Jenna some privacy. Before she could leave, Jenna whimpered, “Please stay.”

  Nancy closed the door and came over to her. Jenna buried herself in Nancy’s shoulder and wept. Eventually, Nancy sat Jenna down and took a seat next to her. She had tears in her eyes, too.

  “Jenna, I am so sorry. I have never met anyone quite like you. I’ve seen the personal struggles that you’ve overcome over the course of this lawsuit. I’ve watched you grow as a person, and I deeply admire you. Rarely do I have clients that I connect with, that impact me. You have. Jenna, I’m proud of you, and I rarely say those words to my clients or my friends. You should be proud of yourself.”

  Overwhelmed by Nancy’s words, Jenna calmed down just enough to regain the ability to speak.

  “Thank you. I’m proud that someone like you would say that to someone like me,” Jenna responded with pure humility.

  The two women, who had become friends, hugged each other tightly. Nancy whispered to Jenna, “I’m going to give you a few more minutes alone. When you’re ready, come back in, and we’ll get back to business.”

  Jenna and Nancy had been gone for over fifteen minutes, leaving Jim, Walt, Tom, and Randy alone. The men tried to fill the void with innocuous discussions of sports and weather, but they were all grateful when Nancy finally returned.

  Tom looked at Nancy with concern in his eyes. “Is Jenna okay?”

  Nancy smiled kindly at Tom, “She’s just taking a couple of extra minutes, but she’s doing better.”

  Five minutes later, Jenna reentered the room. Trying to appear strong, she said, “My apologies. It won’t happen again.”

  Her attorneys all muttered some variation of “Don’t worry about it.”

  Jim figured the best thing to do was to proceed. “Just so you both are clear on what exemplary damages entails, let me explain. In order for Jenna to be found guilty of these charges, the opposing counsel will have to prove that Jenna’s actions demonstrated willful and wanton disregard. In law school, the analogy often provided is taking a machine gun and running down the street, shooting everyone in sight.

  “As we’ve said all along, we don’t believe Jenna’s actions even come close to this standard. We were as shocked by the judge’s ruling as you both are. However, now that the ruling has been made, it holds serious repercussions. If the jury ruled against you, it could decimate your assets. That’s why we wanted Tom and Walt here. Jenna, your decision on how to proceed affects not only you, but also your family. They could take everything you have.”

  Jenna looked at Jim in disbelief. “How could the judge rule in favor of including these charges? You said – you, Nancy, Walt, your colleagues – that nobody thinks this is a punitive damages case. Can’t we appeal the ruling?”

  Jim conceded, “I’ve already looked into that. Basically, we’d have to appeal it to Judge Hastings. The general consensus is that it would be nearly impossible to get him to overturn his own ruling.”

  Exploring every angle, Jenna searched for anything that would keep her afloat. “You said that the charges would be decided upon by the jury. If it’s such a preposterous allegation, wouldn’t a jury be likely to see things in my favor?”

  Walt spoke up, “I would strongly advise you not to take your chances with a jury. Like we’ve told you all along, juries are fickle. Even when things seem logical and clear-cut, a jury could see them in a completely different light.”

  Clearly frustrated, Jenna looked back at Jim and Nancy. “Are there any other ways to fight this?”

  Jim spoke up, “There is one last option. I feel compelled to tell you about it, but I wouldn’t advise it. In trial, the prosecution’s side will go first. They are going to butcher you, which we know and expect. Once they rest, we can make a motion for the judge to dismiss the exemplary damages charge. The problem is, at that point in the trial you look your worst. We haven’t yet had our chance to erase the damage they’ve done. Based on that, it’s unlikely that the judge would dismiss the charge.

  “After our side rests, we can again file a motion for the dismissal of the charge. At that point, it would be our hope that you would look better in the eyes of the judge and the jury. However, most judges are unlikely to reverse a ruling they’ve already made. More likely than not, at that point the judge would throw it to the jury and let them decide. Which brings us back to Walt’s points.”

  Jenna directed her voice to the speaker, “Randy, what do you think?”

  “I’ve always felt very strongly that the doctors being prosecuted because of Hillary Martin’s crimes did nothing wrong. You’re all victims of a criminal act. I still think this is a defendable case, a winnable case. In my experience of over thirty years of defending doctors, I have never seen punitive damages awarded. That’s true even in cases where I thought the charge might apply. The odds are on your side. That being said, your case could be the one that stuns us all. I want to try this case. I want to see you win. But, if it were myself and my family on the chopping block, I’d settle. It’s not what I want, but I think it’s the safest move.”

  Jenna stood. “Nancy, can Tom and I have a couple minutes in your office to discuss things?”

  “Absolutely.” Nancy stood and led Tom and Jenna down the hall.

  Once they were alone, Jenna clutched her husband, burying her head in his chest. After several minutes, Tom pushed Jenna back just enough so that they could see each other’s faces. Tom looked tired and shell-shocked. Jenna looked defeated and wounded beyond repair.

  “For nearly two years,” Jenna shrieked, “this has dominated my life. They’ve belittled me, embarrassed me, harassed me, called me names, and said I did things that are completely untrue. I was prepared to fight. I wanted to fight. It was the only thing I controlled – my decision not to give up. Now they’ve taken that away, too. I think the only thing that could ever hurt me more than this is if something ever happened to you or Mia.”

  Tom’s heart broke for his wife. Jenna’s pain and grief were palpable. Staring down at her, he asked, “Jenna, it’s still your choice. What do you want to do?”

  Jenna’s legs started to give out from beneath her. She gripped Tom tightly, shutting her eyes, and falling into a chair. In her mind, Jenna pictured herself lying face down on the ground, with Allison Anders standing over her. Allison had a bow and arrow, and her weapon was aimed directly at Jenna’s heart. The only thing preventing Allison from releasing the arrow was a clean shot. Allison flashed a diabolical smirk. Overpowered, Jenna rolled onto her back and stared into the piercing, green eyes of her adversary. Jenna simply muttered two small words, “I’m yours.” With malice and precision, Allison released the arrow. It penetrated Jenna’s chest, slicing her heart.

  When Jenna opened her eyes, tears of failure were streaming down her cheeks.

  “There is no choice. Game over.”

  CHAPTER 68

  January 30, 2012

  It was mid-morning on a blustery Monday. The sky was gray and gloomy, mirroring Jenna’s mood. An angry wind shook the windows, threatening to intrude. Fresh snow on the ground swirled violently and gathered in heav
y drifts.

  Mia was at school, and Jenna sat alone in her empty house trying to figure out how to put her life back together. She made a cup of tea and sat on the fireplace hearth. The blazing fire warmed her back, but brought little comfort. This should have been Jenna’s first day in court. It was a day that was stolen from her. A lump of rancid bitterness rose in her throat.

  Above the loud wind gusts whipping through the trees, Jenna heard the incessant ringing of her cell phone. She had no intention of answering it, but caller ID showed Nancy’s number. Jenna fantasized that perhaps Nancy was calling her to tell her that the judge had reconsidered, and her appearance in court was required immediately. Waiting until the fourth ring, Jenna picked up the line.

  Although Jenna was alone, she inexplicably felt the need for privacy. Walking into the office, she shut the French doors and sat down in the leather chair. Jenna cradled the phone against her left shoulder while she held the oversized mug of tea with both hands, warming her palms.

  “Hey, Jenna. I just wanted to see how you were doing?” Nancy’s voice sounded flat and forced, as if the wind had just been knocked out of her.

  “Awful,” Jenna replied bleakly.

  Nancy was speechless. She felt like someone had died – there really was nothing she could say. Mere words could not begin to heal the hole in Jenna’s heart.

  “If it makes you feel any better, Jim and I feel the same. The judge’s decision was unconscionable. Every lawyer in our firm is talking about it. We’re all shocked.”

  “Then, why? Why would he make such an outrageous ruling? Why would he do this to me?”

  “I don’t know.” Nancy had no other reply.

  Jenna slammed her cup down on the desktop. Her resentment had reached a crescendo.

  “Don’t give me that! What the hell is ‘I don’t know’ supposed to mean? You and Jim must have some idea! You owe me the truth. I’ve got nothing else.”

  Nancy stood up and closed the door to her office. She sat down on the edge of her desk and stared at the copy of the Tribune with Jenna’s story on the front page. From the day the story was printed, Nancy had kept it on display, tacked to her corkboard. It was her constant reminder of the doctor she was working to save.

  She lowered her voice. “Let me start by saying that all this is speculation. Even Jim and I will probably never know for certain what motivated Judge Hastings to make the ruling. That being said, our impression is that, for whatever reason, he did not want to see this case reach trial. Maybe he was concerned about publicity, maybe somebody got to him. For whatever reason, he knew how to make sure the trial would never come to pass, and he acted.”

  Jenna swiveled her chair around toward the bookshelves and glanced up at the rows of anesthesia and medical textbooks – books she had spent countless hours studying, memorizing facts and concepts. She wondered how much of her life she had given away to those books. How many precious moments had she missed?

  Spinning back around, Jenna studied her medical school diploma, displayed prominently on the wall. It was elegantly framed in oak with solid-gold inlays. She remembered the day she took it to the framing studio. Jenna had strutted into the store with her precious diploma rolled in a protective cardboard tube. She unrolled it in front of the framer and imagined the other shoppers glancing at the degree in awe. For the first time in her life, she felt like she had made it. She was . . . a doctor.

  Since then, her life had been sucked away. Her career was a parasite – always taking, but never giving anything back. Now it had taken her honor.

  Jenna knew what she needed to do. She spoke discreetly, “Nancy, I need to ask you a favor, off the record. If you can’t do it, I understand, and we can forget I ever mentioned it.”

  Nancy muttered, “Tell me what you need.”

  Jenna continued gazing at her diploma, with animosity and sorrow swelling within her. “I want to confront Judge Hastings. Privately. How could I do that?”

  Nancy felt her heart skip a beat. “Are you sure about this Jenna? You’re contemplating something that could turn out to be very dangerous.”

  “Will you help me, or not?”

  The boldness in Jenna’s voice made Nancy wish they were in court, as scheduled. In this state of mind, Jenna would have been invincible.

  “I’ll help. Just give me a minute to find my file.”

  “What file?” Jenna asked, accusatorily. From Nancy’s end, Jenna heard the sound of drawers opening and closing, and papers shuffling.

  “We have a file on every judge. It contains their professional bio, past rulings, and personal information. The kind of stuff that gives us insight on how best to deal with each of them.”

  “I never knew about that.”

  Nancy replied sternly, “And you still don’t. Okay, I found it. Graduated from Harvard, married to wife, Julie, for thirty years, three kids, blah, blah, blah. Here we go – home address. You got a pen ready?”

  Jenna hurriedly retrieved one from the cluttered desk drawer, along with an old, tattered envelope to write on.

  “Ready.”

  “Fifteen Holden Road in Greenbrier Village.”

  Jenna scribbled down the address. “Got it. Thanks, Nancy.”

  Nancy shook her head, unsure of what she had just unleashed. “Be careful, Jenna.”

  CHAPTER 69

  Jenna hung up the phone and began executing her plan. First, she called Tom.

  “Hey, babe. What’s up?” Tom asked.

  Jenna struggled to sound normal and keep the pitch in her voice even. “Nancy just called and asked me to dinner. Normally I wouldn’t go, but maybe it will help me get some closure. She also wanted me to drop by her office this afternoon to tie up some loose ends. Is there any way you can get Mia after school?”

  “Sure. When do you think you’ll be home?”

  Jenna hated lying to him, but she knew he’d disapprove of what she was about to attempt. “I don’t know. Maybe not until late. Is that okay?”

  Tom hoped the meeting would bring Jenna some relief. “It’s fine. Tell Nancy hello from me, and I’ll see you when you get home.”

  Before Jenna left the house, she conducted a quick Internet search on the judge. It did not take long before Jenna knew exactly what he looked like. Armed with an address and a photo, Jenna quickly dressed in jeans and a sweater and left her house.

  Driving across town, Jenna played things out in her mind. She planned on waiting as long as necessary for the judge to come home, and then she would confront him. Her GPS directed her into a very elite neighborhood. Mansions were perched along the hillside, offering panoramic views only bestowed upon the wealthy. The grounds were meticulously maintained, not a single tree branch was out of place. Even in the dead of winter, blades of green grass poked through the snow. Unfortunately for Jenna, the community was gated – something she hadn’t anticipated. She pulled off into a small parking area and watched as a security guard questioned each driver before granting access.

  “Shit,” she muttered, as her strategy unraveled. There was no way she would make it past the guard. Gazing out her windshield, Jenna watched as Mercedes, BMWs, and the occasional Bentley passed through the security screen. Jenna was about to give up when she noticed a large man with a full head of white hair leaving the subdivision. He was driving a silver Lexus sedan. Her glimpse at the driver was brief, but Jenna was sure it was the judge. She put her car into drive and pulled out on to the road. Careful to keep at least two cars between them, she followed Judge Hastings.

  Her head was buzzing as she pursued the judge through the congested mid-day traffic. At one point, several cars merged into the lane in front of her, and she was sure she had lost sight of him. After several anxious minutes of craning her neck to see past the other vehicles, she glimpsed the rear of his car. Changing lanes, Jenna accelerated, passing several of the cars and pulled in behind Judge Hastings. Before she got too close, she slipped on her dark sunglasses and a wool, winter cap – not the best masquerade,
but better than nothing.

  Fifteen minutes later, he pulled into the parking lot of a country club and parked in the outermost row. Jenna strategically parked between the judge’s car and the building’s entrance. He would be forced to walk past her on his way in. Glancing in her rearview mirror, Jenna spotted Judge Hastings gather a tennis bag from his trunk and make his way toward her. When he was ten feet away, she removed her sunglasses and stepped out of her car.

  The air was frigid, and a biting wind chilled Jenna’s cheeks. She put her hands in her coat pockets and rushed toward the judge. Jenna stopped directly in his path. They were the only two in the icy parking lot. Jenna stood in front on him, and the judge smiled politely. In a flash, his smile faded as he recognized Jenna from her deposition tape. Standing only a few feet apart, neither of them moved.

  “Judge Hastings?”

  “Dr. Reiner,” he said suspiciously. “What are you doing here? Are you following me?”

  Jenna had come for a purpose, and she refused to be sidetracked.

  “I just have to know. Why?”

  Grant Hastings had never been tracked down and confronted by a defendant before. His instinct was to be indignant and harsh. However, as Jenna stood in front of him, her cheeks red from the cold and drops forming at the base of her nose, he was riveted. The woman in front of him was so much softer than what he saw from Jenna during her deposition. Her deep, blue eyes revealed a sense of great loss and immeasurable pain. The way she stood, unpretentious with her shoulders slightly hunched, made her look battered and crushed. Mostly, Jenna looked empty.

  She continued, “Do you know what you took from me?”

  Judge Hastings bowed his head, partly in shame and partly because looking at Jenna was too agonizing. He had ruined this woman.

  “Look at me!” Jenna insisted. She struggled to maintain her composure as anger welled up inside her.

 

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