Lethal Incision

by Dobi Cross

  Zora heard his breath hitch over the line. “Hi, Zora. Long time,” Dave managed to say.

  “Yes it is. Dave …”

  “Go ahead.” His voice had now assumed a more business-like tone.

  “It’s Christina. I think she’s missing.” Zora choked back a cry.

  “Where are you?” Dave asked, the octave in his voice a little higher.

  “I’m at home.”

  “I’ll be right there.” The phone clicked.

  Zora wrapped her arms around herself. Uttering the words aloud had made them real. She started shivering.

  She also realized she hadn’t told Dave where she lived.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Zora paced the living room before she heard a banging on the door. She looked through the peephole, and the tension in her shoulders eased a little. She unclasped the lock and opened the door. Dave stood there, as handsome as ever. He had filled out from the scrawny kid she had dated into a lean machine with no extra fat. She wondered how he could look so good.

  As he stepped into her apartment, Zora looked down at herself and grimaced. She hadn’t even thought to change her clothes. She wore a wrinkled loose top that drowned her well-proportioned body, and pants that had seen better days.

  “Nice place,” Dave said, looking around.

  Zora blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “How did you know my address? I don’t recall ever giving it to you.”

  “I asked the dispatcher to trace your address,” he responded, fixing his piercing brown eyes on her.

  Zora’s face heated up. She had been a bumbling fool in front of the guy who just made her skin tingle. Like he used to before. But this was not the right time to think about his effect on her.

  Turning her eyes away, she motioned to the couch. “Please sit.”

  Dave perched on the edge of the couch, his long legs stretched out before him. “So what’s this about Christina?”

  Zora told him everything. About the patients with botched surgeries who had disappeared, their missing records, the ghost anesthesiologist and scrub team, and the attending who remembered her call. How she’d come home to find Christina’s room trashed, and how Christina was only one of three people who could vouch that they’d been present at the surgery.

  Dave wrote everything down. “Who are the others?”

  “There’s Dr. Ronald Graham. But he’s denied the surgery happened. And then we have Nurse Keller, the SICU nurse that was assigned to Jane Doe. She was gone by the time I got to the SICU, and I haven’t been able to reach her since.”

  Dave scribbled further in his notes.

  “Let me show you Christina’s room,” she said.

  Zora led him to the room and showed him the pendant. Dave chided her for not wearing gloves before picking it up.

  Zora bristled. “Look, I wasn’t thinking at that time that Christina might have been kidnapped.”

  “There’s no need to get worked up. Always the spitfire.”

  Zora shot him a venomous look.

  Dave grinned, but then turned serious again. “We typically advise that you wait twenty-four hours before filing a missing person’s report. But with the way this is,” he swept his hands across the room, “we can consider it a case of kidnapping and have forensics come over.”

  Zora’s throat grew thick. “Thank you. For taking me seriously.” Seeing his questioning look, she said, “Everyone thinks I’m deluded and that I’m making things up.”

  Dave put his hand on her arm. “We’ll do everything to find her,” he stated in a firm tone.

  A feeling of warmth flowed through her at his touch. Zora choked up and couldn’t speak. Instead, she nodded in agreement.

  “Let me make a phone call,” Dave said and walked a few feet away.

  Zora looked around her apartment while Dave made the call. This place would never feel the same again. It had being a place of safety, refuge, and recharge. But it had been desecrated. The muscle in her jaw tightened just thinking about it.

  Dave got off the phone and walked back to where Zora stood with her arms wrapped around herself. “Someone from forensics is on the way. I’ll wait till they get here.”

  Zora’s shoulders relaxed a bit. She had missed this. Dave had been a rock to lean on back in high school. She wondered why she’d never sought him out after she had somewhat come to terms with her sister’s disappearance. Maybe she had been afraid he would reject her. And not that she’d lost hope that they’d find her sister. In fact, Marcus was constantly looking for new leads regarding the case, but nothing had panned out in recent times. Zora had accepted she needed to live her own life while still searching for her.

  “Are you married?” she blurted out before she could stop herself. Heat rose on her face, and Zora wished the ground could open up and swallow her.

  Dave chuckled. The dimples on his cheeks highlighted much more how gorgeous he was. “No, I’m not.”

  Zora had guessed that was the case—there was no ring on his finger—but it felt good to hear him say it. Then she remembered Christina.

  She turned away and walked over to the kitchen to lean against the counter. What was she thinking? Christina was missing. Her heart lurched at the thought. Christina was all that mattered at the moment.

  The silence between them grew awkward. “Can I get you anything? Water, coffee, soda?” she asked.

  Dave looked at her, his eyes a tempting pool of chocolate. “I’m fine. Thanks for offering.”

  The silence increased until it became an elephant in the room.

  Dave fiddled with his pen. “Zora, we’ll do everything we can to find Christina.”

  Zora’s fingers twisted her pendant back and forth. “I know you will,” Zora responded. “I just wish she would walk in and say, ‘Surprise!’ but something tells me that’s not going to happen.”

  “It’s going to be—“

  There was a knock at the door. Dave strode to the door and opened it. “Come in, Bill.”

  A short, potbellied guy that reminded Zora of a jolly Father Christmas walked in, flanked by a slim blonde with a camera around her neck.

  Dave turned to Zora. “Bill is our forensic expert and the best in the area. Laura is our crime scene tech.” Dave turned back to Bill. “Bill, this is Zora, a high school friend of mine. It appears her roommate might have been kidnapped.”

  Zora acknowledged them with a nod. “Thanks for coming over. The room in question is this way.” Zora led them to the room and opened the door.

  “Wow,” said Laura.

  Bill turned to Zora. “We’ll take it from here.”

  “Why don’t we get out of their way?” Dave said to Zora. “Is there a coffee shop nearby? Bill will give me a call once he’s done.”

  “Give me a moment to change,” Zora replied.

  Dave looked her up and down. “You look fine to me. Beautiful as always.”

  Zora felt the heat on her cheeks. It had been a long time a man had complimented her. Of course, she had fellow residents and patients who told her she looked great, but it was not the same. She’d been too busy to date in medical school and no less so in residency. “I’ll b-b-e right b-b-back,” she stammered and scurried to her room.

  Five minutes later, she came out wearing a black and white T-shirt with “I’m no rebel” written on it in red, and a pair of blue jeans matched with black boots. She had washed her face and her hair was piled up in a ponytail. “I’m ready to go. The coffee shop is a block away. We’ll just walk there,” she said.

  Zora and Dave left the apartment and headed down the stairs. Her phone vibrated in her jean pocket. She pulled it out and looked at the screen. Brian Atkinson, her BFF resident who was also in his fifth year, was calling her. They had grown close after Zora had tripped in the call room and poured coffee down his shirt in their first year of residency and had remained friends ever since.

  Brian had graduated from Harvard Medical school before applying for a residency spot at Lexinbridge R
egional. Rumors had it that he had included the hospital on his list during the matching process on a dare—he wasn’t a small city kind of guy even though Lexinbridge Regional’s general surgical residency program was one of the best in the country. The city must have changed him because now he was planning to snag one of the fellowship spots at the hospital. He had been on vacation for the past one month and had likely gotten back earlier today.

  Zora picked up the call. “Brian, welcome back. What’s going on?”

  “I’m so sorry, Zora.”

  Zora stopped walking and her heart rate picked up. This was the first time Brian had ever said those words to her over their many years of friendship. She noticed Dave had halted too.

  “Brian, what’s wrong?” Zora asked. Dave looked at her with eyebrows raised.

  “I just heard the attendings discussing your suspension. What’s going on?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  “Hold on. What suspension? There must be some kind of mistake.”

  “They didn’t tell you? You should have gotten an email, and then a certified mail about it.”

  “Brian, I’ll call you back.” Zora disconnected the call and quickly pulled up her work email on her phone. Sure enough, there was an email marked “URGENT” from an ad hoc Disciplinary Committee. She quickly scanned the notice and collapsed against the wall.

  Dave reached out to grab her. “What’s going on, Zora?”

  Zora shook her head in disbelief. “I’ve been suspended for a month. For misconduct pending further investigation. I don’t understand. I’ve done nothing wrong …” Her voice trailed away as she stared out blankly. “Could it be …?”

  She pulled herself to her feet abruptly. “I need to go. I’ll call you later.” She pushed off the wall and staggered down the stairs.

  “Zora, wait!”

  Zora picked up speed and raced down the remaining stairs and out into the street. The air was bitter cold, but she didn’t feel a thing. She hailed the first cab she saw. “Lexinbridge Regional please,” she said as she slid into the cab.

  “You got it.” The driver sped off. Within a few minutes, they’d arrived at the hospital entrance.

  Zora jumped out and handed the driver a twenty. “Keep the change.”

  She sprinted through the hospital entrance and took the escalator to the fourth floor. Dr. Anderson’s office was on the far right of the east wing. She matched down the hallway and stepped into the front office. His secretary sat behind her desk, shuffling some papers. She looked up as Zora came in.

  “I’m here to see Dr. Anderson,” Zora said.

  “He’s leaving in about five minutes,” the secretary responded in an apologetic tone.

  “It will only take a minute,” Zora pleaded.

  The secretary’s eyes searched Zora’s face for a moment. “Alright, go in. Good luck.”

  Zora turned away. The secretary had probably heard about her suspension. She wondered if others would look at her with pity as well.

  She took a deep breath and knocked on the door to the inner office. She heard a faint reply come through the door.

  Zora stepped into Dr. Anderson’s office. He was standing behind his desk, taking a call.

  “Yes, yes, I understand. Goodnight,” he said to whoever was on the other end of the line. He finished the call and placed the phone on his desk.

  “Dr. Smyth, I assume you are here about the disciplinary interview. Sit.” He gestured to the visitors’ seats as he sat down on his chair.

  Zora pulled back one of the seats facing the desk and settled on it. She was beginning to think the chairs were unlucky with all the bad news and false promise she’d received while sitting on it. “I don’t understand why I’m facing possible suspension. What have I done wrong? And which misconduct are we talking about?” she said in a tense voice.

  “Well, you inappropriately took another patient’s surgery slot without permission.”

  “That’s old news and I got punished for it. I ended up with an extra three-day call and lost the opportunity to attend the GI conference,” Zora pointed out.

  “Unfortunately, both the doctor and the VIP patient complained. We have to take such complaints seriously, you understand.”

  “The VIP patient complained and I’m just hearing about it after a few days? We both know VIP patients air their grievances immediately. What’s the real reason for the suspension?”

  “Dr. Smyth, you’ve stepped on some really big toes up there with what you did.” Dr. Anderson pointed upwards. “And management is not happy.”

  Zora shifted in her seat. “Which big toes? The VIP patient issue is not enough to warrant their attention. And suspension? That’s like killing an ant with a sledgehammer. That’s going to go my record, which would affect my chances for a good fellowship spot. It will ruin my career!”

  “Dr. Smyth, my hands are tied. There will be a disciplinary interview next week after which a recommendation will be forwarded to the Medical Executive Committee as to whether to keep you in the program or let you go.”

  “What?” Zora got up suddenly, knocking back her chair. “I can’t believe this,” she sputtered.

  “I’m sorry, Dr. Smyth, there’s nothing I can do.” Dr. Anderson looked at his watch. “And I have to leave now. I have a meeting across town that I need to get to.” He picked up his black jacket from the coat rack and donned it.

  Zora staggered out of the inner office. The secretary was gone. It was just as well. Another look of pity might undo her. She exited the office into the hallway and leaned with her back against the wall. “This cannot be happening to me,” she whispered.

  It was way worse than Zora had initially thought. Something is wrong here, she thought. It seemed too much for just butting into someone’s slot, especially since she had been in and out of the OR with more than enough time to prep for the next patient. No harm done, and the VIP patient wouldn’t have been aware of any delay. Unless … No it couldn’t be. Was it because she had been asking about Jane Doe? But why would someone upstairs want to shut her up about it?

  Zora shook her head. This was all too much. Two patients had disappeared, Christina was missing, and now this. “Aargh!”

  A nurse passing by gave her a strange look and pushed her cart further away.

  Zora fiddled with her pendant. She couldn’t stay here while her life was going up in smoke. She had to do something. Anything.

  Zora turned her head and saw Dr. Anderson step out into the hallway with his black bag. She started toward him.

  “Dr. Smyth, you are still here?”

  “I have to ask. Is this whole case about the patients? The ones I reported missing?”

  Dr. Anderson pushed his glasses up his nose. “Dr. Smyth, I don’t know what you are talking about.”

  “What do you mean?” Zora cried. “I spoke to you earlier today about it.”

  “Dr. Smyth, I think everything has been too much for you lately. Time away from the hospital would do you good. I heard the rumors about you looking for missing patients, but I didn’t believe it. This wouldn’t look good for you in the disciplinary interview. I suggest you have a quick chat with a therapist.”

  “But—”

  “Goodnight, Dr. Smyth.” Dr. Anderson strode off down the hallway and disappeared from view.

  Zora clenched her fists by her side. Unbelievable. In the blink of an eye, she had gone from being a witness to a culprit. So this was the stance Dr. Anderson was taking. Make her out to be unstable and then kick her from the program.

  They—whoever the people upstairs were—had another thing coming if they thought she would just roll over and accept whatever they handed to her. This was an aggressive move which meant something big was at stake here, something that had to stay hidden at all costs. And as a result, her life was zooming out of control. Her career had always been the one constant element in her life. To lose it now after all the years of sacrifice would be devastating.

  She had to get to the
bottom of this case or die trying.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Drake’s eyes locked on his father’s like magnets as they sat opposite each other in the restaurant. They were the only ones in the main area, but Drake could hear the distant clatter of plates being washed and cooking utensils hung up. The smell of roasted meat and fresh garlic bread hung thick in the air. It was his father’s favorite restaurant, one that he and Drake’s mother had eaten at once every month. Drake found the old-fashioned nature of the restaurant very stifling, and had made up excuses to not attend during the years before he left home. He hadn’t been back to the restaurant since then.

  But the place worked for today’s meeting. He’d emptied the restaurant, something his father had never been able to accomplish—a demonstration that their roles had changed—since the owner was very fastidious about making sure his very old customers who came in everyday had access to the restaurant anytime they liked. But Drake had found the guy’s pain point and made it go away, which earned him an empty restaurant whenever he wanted.

  The meeting had been a long time coming. Drake had been bitter against his father since the day he cut him off from the company. He hadn’t expected the old man to stand by his side—Drake knew enough about his father not to expect this—but it had still hurt when his father had discarded him to pick a new heir. When he’d found out, he’d sworn that day to gain control of the company. What he was seeing today was the fruit of his hard labor to make that a reality. It was time for his father to step down and retire. Drake’s era had dawned.

  “What do you want, Drake?” That was his father, straight to the point with no pleasantries needed.

  “I want an additional thirty percent share in Collmark.”

  His father’s cool gaze assessed him. The implications were clear—Drake wanted to be the company’s majority shareholder. But he didn’t seem surprised by the demand. It was like he’d expected it. “And if I refuse?”

  “You can just continue to watch the value of Collmark’s assets under management decimate like they are doing now. And I’ll make sure the investors hear about it faster than you can say Jack Robinson.”