by Andrea Kane
Roger’s hands stopped in midair. There was an entire day missing from the sequence. And not just a random day—the day of Ronald Lexington’s surgery. Someone had intentionally deleted the video of that surgery, the original and the backup copies, as well.
Quickly Roger picked up the phone and called his contact at the law firm. Before the attorney could answer, Roger quickly hung up, rethinking his first impulse. He needed to discuss this with Jacob—in person. Someone was trying to sabotage the hospital’s legal defense. Roger had ways to find out who. He would offer his skills to Jacob, and when he handed him the name of the saboteur, Roger’s completion bonus coins would multiply tenfold.
He dialed Janet’s extension. She would have to find a way to get him on Jacob’s calendar today.
* * *
Janet let the phone call go to voice mail.
She was in the middle of something very important—talking to her daughter.
“What do you mean, the cabin burned down?” Diana demanded, sitting across the desk from her mother. “How do you know? How did it happen?”
“You don’t need answers to either of those questions,” Janet said, not mincing words. “Just know that it’s gone. No one else will read about it, except the upstate locals, because there’s no link tying us to the cabin.”
“Mom.” Diana leaned forward, tears glistening on her lashes. “I was born in that cabin. You’ve told me that story over and over. You raised me there till I was two, and then we went back all the time for weekend trips—just the two of us. I still drive up there sometimes when I need to get away. So do you. You wouldn’t be so cavalier about this if it were a surprise or an accident. What’s going on?”
Janet pulled out the sheet of paper Casey had given her.
Diana glanced at it, clearly puzzled. “A bunch of computer codes?”
“An encryption key. A page of computer codes. Each one represents one of the women Ronald slept with.” She pointed to a code halfway down. “I know that one’s mine. Those numbers are the numerical part of the cabin’s address.”
Diana paled. “Who gave this to you?”
“Forensic Instincts. They’re about to figure out the name and detailed background on every one of these women. I’ll be exposed—and worse, so will you. There are no options. I must find a way to delete my entry from this list. Plus, I have to destroy all my ties to Ronald—even the ones that break my heart.” Her expression softened. “All except my most precious one. You’re the one blessing he gave me that no one can ever take away.”
Diana bowed her head, and her tears came faster. “So you burned down our house.”
“I had no choice.”
“No, you didn’t,” Diana admitted softly. “He didn’t give you one. He never gave you one.” She picked up her head, and there was agony in her eyes. “He hurt you so much. I hate that more than the fact that he never acknowledged my existence. You gave up your whole life for that man. So whatever you did, no one can blame you for—including torching the home he supposedly built for you.”
“I’m just doing what I have to do.” Janet’s jaw set. “The truth about your being Ronald’s daughter can never come out. I won’t have you in the middle of a scandal.”
“The truth about me?” Diana dried her eyes and regained control. “Even I didn’t know that truth until six months ago.”
“And I never planned on telling you,” Janet replied bluntly. “What would have been the point? The truth could only cause you pain—which it has. But when you were up at the cabin, opened that book and the photo of Ronald and me fell out, you asked so many questions. I couldn’t lie to you any longer.” There was a painful pause. “I still beat myself up wondering which was the worse of the two decisions—keeping you in the dark all those years, or breaking down and telling you the truth.”
“It was a lose-lose situation. I always wanted to meet my father, even though you said he was just a brief affair and you broke up before he knew you were pregnant. I guess ignorance is bliss. I missed out on so much from a man who didn’t want me, anyway.” Diana blinked back tears. “In any case, my emotional baggage is hardly the issue now. We’ve got to get your name off that list.”
Janet’s expression was grim. “My copy isn’t the problem. The data is stored on the Forensic Instincts’ computer server, which makes it impossible to tamper with. Casey Woods asked me to help her crack this code. I have to pretend I couldn’t do it and pray that neither can they—at least long enough for us to hire someone who can hack into and corrupt their system.”
“Who do we know who can do that?”
“I’ll figure it out. There’s got to be a supertechie here who wants a wad of cash. We just have to find him or her.”
“What if Forensic Instincts decrypts the file first?”
“Then I’ll switch gears and beg for their discretion. Of course I’ll become a suspect, but they can’t prove anything. And I’m far from alone on their suspect list.”
“But will they tell Madeline? Especially if they’re working for her now?”
“Not if I do my job right.”
* * *
Preoccupied and deep in thought, Janet scowled in irritation when her phone started ringing again. It had rung three times during her talk with Diana, and now twice more since Diana had gone back to work. She’d ignored it all five times, since the only emergency call she could be receiving would come from Jacob, who by now would have stormed into her office with whatever was on his mind.
Still, she should have listened to her voice mail. This was a critical and precarious time in her life.
She reached over and picked up the phone. “Janet Moss.”
“Where have you been?” a male voice demanded. “I’ve been trying to get in touch with you all morning.”
Janet blinked. “Who is this?”
“Roger Lewis.”
Roger Lewis. The IT guy Jacob had appointed to work with the lawyers. What could he possibly want so urgently from her?
“What can I do for you, Roger?” she asked evenly.
“It’s what I can do for you. I need an immediate appointment with Mr. Casper. Is he there? The receptionist wouldn’t let me in to see either one of you.”
“You came down here?”
“Well, you weren’t answering your phone, so yes. I attempted to knock on either your or Mr. Casper’s doors, but I was tossed out. So I’m calling again.”
“Mr. Casper is tied up all day today.” Janet glanced at Jacob’s electronic calendar. “I can try to fit you in tomorrow at about nine-thirty....”
“I said now!” Roger almost shouted the last word. “I have crucial information I need to share with him.”
“About the lawsuit?” Janet was starting to get a little uneasy.
“Of course about the lawsuit,” he snapped. “Is Mr. Casper in his office now?”
“Yes, but he’s meeting with our attorney.”
“Better still. I’m on my way to his office. Please let me through.”
* * *
Five minutes later, Janet met Roger in the reception area.
“I’ve told Mr. Casper you’re on your way to see him,” she said. “For your sake, I sincerely hope this is a true emergency.”
“It is. Now may I go in?”
Janet nodded, preceding Roger to Jacob’s door. She knocked, and then poked her head into the office. “Roger Lewis is here to see you.”
“Send him in,” Jacob called out.
Roger rubbed his sweaty palms on his pants. He was visibly nervous. But he was also a man with a mission.
He walked inside Jacob’s office and shut the door in Janet’s face.
“Roger.” Jacob rose from behind his desk. “You know our attorney, Stephen Diamond.”
“Yes, sir, we’ve m
et.” Roger shook the attorney’s hand. “I’m glad you’re here. The information I’ve uncovered is something you both should know about immediately.”
“What is it?” Jacob’s forehead creased.
“I was doing my first task of the morning, going through the hospital files on Conrad Westfield’s surgeries. Evidently he had them all recorded.”
“That doesn’t shock me,” Jacob responded. “Some surgeons prefer to do that, via the cameras in the O.R., so they can review them later or use them in a teaching capacity.”
“I didn’t know that,” Stephen Diamond said. “We should review the video recording of Ronald Lexington’s surgery immediately. It might show us something that Conrad was negligent about when he operated.”
“That’s why I’m here.” Roger stood up straighter, still proud of his discovery. “I ran through the entire list of surgical recordings. The file containing Ronald Lexington’s surgery has been permanently deleted—not just the original, but the backup copy, as well.”
“How do you know that’s the surgical recording that was deleted?” Stephen demanded.
“From the date and location. Video recordings of surgeries are all stored on a specific drive, with each date as a separate directory. This was the date of Mr. Lexington’s operation, and there’s no file with his name on it at all. In fact, that entire day of surgeries was deleted. There’s just an empty directory.”
“The only reason someone would delete those files is if there was incriminating information on it.” Jacob rubbed the back of his neck. “Shit.”
“That’s not necessarily bad,” Stephen said. “Remember that, assuming there was any wrongdoing, we need to shift the blame off the hospital and onto Conrad Westfield. If he committed medical malpractice wrongful death, and the rest of the hospital employees are innocent, then he takes the fall—Manhattan Memorial doesn’t.”
“But he couldn’t have deleted that file,” Jacob countered. “He was in a mental health facility.”
“He was?” Roger asked in surprise.
“Forget you heard that,” Jacob snapped. “It’s confidential.”
“Anything can be done electronically,” Stephen continued. “Conrad had a computer with him, didn’t he?”
“I assume so,” Jacob replied.
“Then he’s not off the hook.” Stephen turned to Roger. “Are you sure that there’s no way to recover the file or its backup copy?”
“None,” Roger replied. “It’s completely deleted from our databases.”
“Then we have to find a way to get it elsewhere,” Stephen said. “Or to prove that Conrad—or an ally of his—deleted it.”
Jacob’s eyes widened. “You mean Madeline?”
“Anything’s possible.” The attorney pursed his lips. “But before we start making extra work for ourselves, let’s start with the easy route. Conrad wasn’t a teaching surgeon, was he?”
Jacob shook his head.
“Then we have to assume he made those recordings for his own purposes.”
“I’m sure that’s true,” Jacob replied. “Conrad was a perfectionist. He must have been reviewing his work and scrutinizing it.”
“Then let’s see just how obsessive he was.” Stephen picked up the phone and dialed. “Edward Markham, please. This is Stephen Diamond.”
A moment passed.
“Hello, Mr. Markham. We’ve come across a situation, and we’re hoping we can be on the same side on this one.” He went on to explain what Roger had found—or not found—and to stress the significance of this.
“I’m sure your client would want to help us both out if he could, since it could only benefit him.” A pause. “Exactly. What I was wondering is if Dr. Westfield happened to keep copies of those videos of his surgeries, since I know how diligent he was about reviewing his work.” Another pause. “I appreciate that. Please let me know immediately after you speak with him....Good. I’ll look forward to your call.”
* * *
Outside Jacob’s door, Janet backed away, feeling her insides twist. This was the worst-case scenario, the very thing she had feared from the beginning.
Of course Madeline would know where those videos were. She was the most methodical and organized person Janet had ever met. So if Conrad was in the dark, his ex-wife wouldn’t be.
Janet had to intercept this problem. She had to get her hands on that video recording before everyone else did.
32
RYAN WALKED INTO his lair and sat down at his computer station.
Casey had heard nothing back from Janet Moss, so the woman was obviously not having any luck figuring out Ronald’s coding system.
That didn’t work for Ryan. Sitting around and waiting made him crazy. Everyone else seemed to be guarding Madeline and Conrad, while he was spinning in neutral. He’d picked up nothing incriminating at the Lexington house—just a lot of ranting and raving from Nancy Lexington that pointed to her being a nut job, but not a murderer.
It was time to check out the current results of his keystroke-logging software. So far there’d been nothing exciting.
Firing up his computer, Ryan called up the keystroke logger management interface.
He scrolled through the log file...nothing major from most of the bigwigs, but Roger Lewis had been a busy boy. Ryan grimaced. He’d probably been sending emails to an online lonely hearts club, weeping about his shattered relationship with Emma.
A minute later, he changed his mind. No whining over Emma. The guy had obviously decided to throw himself into his work. His input was all hospital business.
Brow furrowed in concentration, Ryan reviewed Roger’s keystrokes. The guy had been trying to retrieve files. What files in particular? Ryan intended to find out.
He opened up a Telnet session, tunneling right through the hospital’s firewall. Using the admin credentials he had forged, he had the same access Roger did. Now to replicate what that shithead had done. It was a long and painstaking process.
Success. Ryan scanned the screen and found the same thing that Roger had—a file was missing and its backup had been deleted.
Checking a little more thoroughly, Ryan put together the pieces and bolted upright in his chair. Based on similar directories and files on the same storage device, the missing file was one of many missing files that had contained video recordings—recordings of surgeries performed the same day as Ronald Lexington’s surgery.
Someone had erased the files.
What the hell was on that video recording that someone wanted to make vanish?
Jumping out of his chair, Ryan took the steps two at a time until he reached the conference room.
* * *
Casey and Claire were in heated conversation. Marc was pacing the room, and Hero was sitting up straight, visibly tense.
Ryan burst into the room. “I need to talk to you.”
“Wait in line,” Casey said. “I’m mediating a disagreement. Claire wants to call off Emma ASAP and get her out of the hospital in case Roger tries something even more violent. Marc thinks it would be too obvious if she abruptly vanished, plus it would be one less pair of eyes on Madeline. I’m inclined to agree with Claire. Madeline is well-guarded by professionals—a role that Emma’s not equipped to fill. There’s nothing more that she can do for us there. And after that ugly experience with Roger, I don’t want to put her in harm’s way. Who knows if Roger is going to retaliate—”
“Get Emma out of there,” Ryan interrupted. “She doesn’t need to face that asshole again. And I didn’t come in here just to talk to you. I need the whole team to hear this.”
Abruptly Casey switched gears and focused on Ryan.
“You found something. What is it?”
“A pretty explosive something.” Ryan explained what he’d discovered when he retraced Roge
r’s keystrokes.
“So the video recording is missing,” Casey said. “Is it possible there’s another copy?”
“Madeline said that Conrad was obsessive about his work,” Claire reminded them. “Could he have made a copy and taken it to Crest Haven with him?”
“There’s only one way to find out.” Casey reached for the phone and dialed Conrad’s number.
Conrad answered on the second ring. “Hello?”
“Conrad? It’s Casey Woods. I don’t mean to be abrupt, but I need to know if you made a copy of Ronald Lexington’s surgery.”
“That’s odd,” he replied. “My attorney called earlier and asked me the same question.”
Casey’s warning bells went off. “Did he tell you why?”
“Because the hospital’s counsel was requesting it. I assume they’re looking for something to save the hospital, although I’m not sure what that means for me. I doubt the video is going to help them. I’ve scrutinized it over and over. Still, I’d welcome a review by my peers. I probably should have asked some of my colleagues for their opinions a long time ago. Perhaps they’ll see something I overlooked. Maybe then I can live with myself and go on with my life.”
“So you did make a copy,” Casey said.
“I made a copy of every one of my surgeries. Watching them gave me a chance to study my technique and see if there was anything I could improve upon.” Conrad choked up a bit. “As I said, I watched Ronald’s surgery again and again before I was in such a dark place that I admitted myself to Crest Haven.”
“Nothing looked out of the ordinary?”
“I couldn’t find an error no matter how closely I studied the video. I doubt the hospital’s attorney will, either. But for the sake of the attorneys on both sides and the insurance company that’s defending me, let them pursue it. I welcome the scrutiny.”
“Do you still have a copy of the video recording?”
“I believe so. But truthfully, I’m not sure where. My apartment was trashed. Madeline and I had just divided up our property, and I have no clue where my discs ended up.”
