Every Fifteen Minutes

by Lisa Scottoline

  “Chief? Pardon?” Amaka frowned, puzzled.

  “Excuse me, go on.” Eric kept it together as Amaka continued, giving the overnight status update on patient after patient, and he replied when it was necessary, managing to make it through the remainder of the meeting by focusing on his patients, who deserved as much, and Max, whom he’d have to call about later. The meeting concluded, and Eric got through treatment rounds with Sam and the team the same way, by staying focused on the care of his patients.

  At noon, Eric grabbed a yogurt and a soda from the vending machine and fled to his office, closing the door behind him. He knew he was hiding but he needed the breather, and he had the Physicians Impairment Committee meeting at 1:30. He slid his phone from his back pocket, scrolled to Contacts, found Marie’s phone number, and dialed it, listening to it ring as he went to the desk and sat down. It rang twice, then was answered. “Marie, it’s Dr. Parrish.”

  “Hello, Dr. Parrish,” Marie answered, her voice sounding vaguely boozy. He had no idea if she’d gotten his earlier phone message.

  “Did Max come home?”

  “No, I haven’t seen him. Have you heard anything?”

  “No. Doesn’t he work today?”

  “He’s supposed to, but his boss called looking for him. They said he didn’t come in. He didn’t call either. They don’t know where he is.”

  “Oh no.” Eric couldn’t pull any punches. “I’m very concerned about his mental state and whether he’s done himself harm. I haven’t heard from the police, have you?”

  “No.”

  “Does he ever stay out at night? How typical is this?” Eric could guess the answer from what he knew about Max.

  “To be honest, I don’t know how typical it is.” Marie hesitated. “I … don’t always … stay here.”

  “But it’s not like him, is it? He’s a responsible kid. Has he ever even missed a day of work?”

  “I don’t know, I doubt it.”

  “Marie, last night you mentioned that Max talks on the phone to somebody, maybe a friend of his. Do you have any idea who that person could be?”

  “No, I don’t know. I just know he talks to him a lot on the phone at night.”

  “It’s a he? How do you know it’s a boy? Did you hear him say a name?” Eric wondered if it could be Renée.

  “I didn’t hear him say a name, but it has to be a boy. I don’t really think Max had a girlfriend, do you?” Marie chuckled, and Eric heard ice tinkling in a glass, which troubled him.

  “Marie, it’s not my business, but it would help a lot if you could stick to Diet Coke. This is about Max, and we have to work together to find him. It doesn’t get more—”

  “It’s just that it’s so crazy, and it’s a lot to deal with, all of a sudden the house is empty, and the funeral home wants to schedule the service for my mom, and I don’t even know where Max is, and it turns out she paid for the whole thing, but they want to know what kind of flowers I want and things like that…”

  “I understand,” Eric said, when her voice trailed off. “I know this is a hard time for you, but Max has to be the priority now. We have to find him.”

  “Okay, okay, I hear you.”

  “Good. I have to go now because I want to call the police. Call me if he contacts you, would you?”

  “Yes, fine, thanks. Thanks so much for helping. Don’t think I don’t appreciate you, because I do. I know you really care about him, I can tell. Bye now.”

  “Okay, good-bye now.” Eric hung up, got the non-emergency number of the Radnor police, and pressed Call.

  “Squad room, Sergeant Colson speaking. How may I help you?”

  “Hello, this is Dr. Eric Parrish, a psychiatrist at Havemeyer General Hospital, and I’m calling about one of my private patients. I’m concerned that he’s a suicide risk after his grandmother’s death yesterday, and he’s been missing since then. His name is Max Jakubowski.”

  “How old is he?”

  “Seventeen, a senior at Pioneer High. He works at PerfectScore but he hasn’t shown up for work today and his mother doesn’t know where he is, either.”

  “So how long has he been missing?”

  “Since six o’clock last night, but it’s very unusual for him to be out at night, especially overnight.” Eric was going with his hunch.

  “Can you give me a brief description of the boy?”

  Eric told him generally what Max looked like. “Is he considered a missing person yet?”

  “We don’t stand on technicalities, Dr. Parrish.”

  “Good, because it’s a matter of life and death. I called last night, and Officer Gambia went to the boy’s house for me. He knows the case.”

  “Hold on, please, Dr. Parrish. It may take a few minutes.”

  “Okay, I’ll wait.” Eric moved his mouse to wake up his computer, entered his passcode, and watched email pile onto the screen. He skimmed the senders’ names and subject lines distractedly, but one jumped out at him. He moved the mouse to click it open.

  “Dr. Parrish?” Sergeant Colson said, abruptly back on the line. “I talked to one of my patrolmen, and they are aware of the situation from last night. We will keep an eye out for the young man and notify you if we hear anything. We have your cell number from last night.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Good-bye, Doctor.”

  “Bye.” Eric stared at the computer screen. The email was from Susan and it read: Dear Eric, Attached please find a copy of Husband’s Petition for Primary Custody, which was filed and served today. Please feel free to call if you have any questions. Best, Susan.

  He opened the attachment and tried to read it, but the terms tumbled all over one another, MINOR CHILD, WIFE, HUSBAND, PRIMARY RESIDENCE, all the stuff of his personal life, bollixed up in boldface. He studied it until it was time to go to the Physician Impairment Committee meeting.

  He didn’t eat the yogurt.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Eric took a moment to compose himself before the Physician Impairment Committee meeting, standing outside the closed mahogany door in the empty hallway. He had to get his head in the game, so he pressed his custody petition and Max to the back of his mind, so he could focus. He braced himself, opened the door, and entered the conference room, but Brad Farnessen, Tom Singh, and Sam Ward were already there. They had water bottles and fresh legal pads, and Eric realized they must have been told to arrive much earlier. They sat in a panel on the far side of a Formica table with a fake wood surface, shaped like an upside-down U.

  Brad smiled at Eric and rose abruptly, gesturing to his right. “Eric, come on in. Please, sit down.”

  “Thanks for coming, Eric,” Tom said, rising from the center seat, his voice falsely light.

  Sam rose last, meeting Eric’s eye with obvious discomfort and pursing his lips. He actually gave Eric a little hippie-wave, then shoved his hand into his pocket. “Hey, Chief.”

  “Hello, everyone.” Eric sat down in the black mesh chair to their right, and while everybody resettled, he looked briefly around. The room was small, rectangular, and windowless, and there was a large flat-screen television mounted on the wall, a futuristic pod-type conference phone in the center of the table, and a whiteboard on the wall that read at the top, HGH Patient Safety Communication Board.

  “Eric, thanks for coming.” Tom cleared his throat, easing back in his chair in the center seat. “We would like to begin by making a statement on behalf of the committee. We want to make clear, at the outset, that we appreciate your hard work for the past fifteen years.”

  “Thank you.” Eric kept a smile on his face, but it unnerved him to look into Tom’s chilly gray eyes, so he shifted his attention to the whiteboard on the back wall. Underneath the title were various columns and notations, written in thick black Sharpie.

  “We appreciate your cooperation in this meeting, which we hope you understand is a formality.”

  “Understood.” Eric read the whiteboard’s left side, which was headed Employee
Injury Report, and under that, a column of Last Splash Exposure, Last Stick Exposure, Last Physical Injury to Employee by Patient, and Last Slip/Fall. There were June dates written in Sharpie next to each category except for Last Slip/Fall, so evidently May had been a good month for hospital employees’ staying upright.

  “Let me briefly explain the procedure, which is informal. There will be no audio or video recording of this meeting, though we may take notes.” Tom gestured at the legal pad sitting before each of them. “If you would like to take some notes, too, we can get you a pad.”

  “No, thanks.” Eric kept his eyes on the whiteboard and read a column that had no heading: Last Mislabeled Specimen, Last Preventable Harm Event, Last Fall with Injury, Last Serious Event, Last Sentinel, Last CLABS, Last CAUTI, Last C.DIFF. There was a date written next to each one, and he realized midway through that he was reading a list of employee mistakes, which made him wonder if this was the Liability Conference Room. If so, he’d come to the right place.

  “This meeting will last about an hour, and during it, we’ll be exploring the allegations made in a sexual harassment claim filed against you by Kristine Malin, a medical student on rotation in your service.”

  Eric cringed inwardly, to hear the words said aloud in Sam’s presence. If his attending didn’t know about it before, he knew it now, and it would probably explain Eric’s wacky behavior in the staff meeting this morning.

  “I’ll be asking the questions here. It’s not as if you have to field questions from the three of us, as if we were a Roman triumvirate. You won’t be sworn in. We know you are honest and we trust you to tell us the truth.”

  “Thank you.” Eric forced himself to look away from the whiteboard in case it made him look false, like an actor reading cue cards.

  “Finally, you should feel free to ask any questions you have. This isn’t an inquisition, it’s a discussion. Do you have any questions about procedure, before we move on?”

  “Yes.” Eric told himself to remain calm. “What happens after this? You listen to me, then you decide if I’m credible or not? The three of you make a judgment?”

  Tom nodded. “Generally, that’s true, but that’s only part of the decision. The investigator will meet with the complainant, Ms. Malin, and he will make a recommendation as to the veracity of her allegations. We will review his recommendation and reach a final decision within the week.”

  Eric saw his opening. “Is Kristine, uh, Ms. Malin, being interviewed today?”

  “Yes, I believe she is, this afternoon.”

  “I knew it!” Eric leaned forward, urgent. “Look, I don’t know why she’s telling these lies about me, but she looks completely different today than she’s ever looked during her entire rotation. She usually wears contacts and dresses up, lots of makeup and skirts, but today, she’s wearing glasses, pants, a blazer. Her hair is back in a ponytail. She’s not wearing any makeup.”

  “What’s your point, Eric?” Tom frowned, recoiling.

  “I think she’s trying to fake it for the interviewer today. I think she’s trying to create a false impression that she doesn’t dress nice or is overly attractive.” Eric knew it sounded like he was blaming the victim, so he tried to explain. “Not that the way she dresses would excuse any harassment on my part, but I swear to you, I didn’t harass her.” Eric faced Sam. “Sam, you work with Kristine every day. Don’t you know what I’m talking about? Didn’t she look different today in the staff meeting?”

  “Honestly, she did.” Sam nodded, turning to Tom. “Tom, Eric is completely right. I never saw Kristine look like that before. Not that that would justify harassing her or anything, don’t get me wrong, but Eric is totally right. Kristine’s very cute, if I’m allowed to say that…” Sam hesitated. “I can say that, right, Tom?”

  “Yes,” Tom answered.

  “Okay,” Sam continued, “she’s pretty and she dresses up every day. All the nurses talk about her, they all think she wears her skirts too short. Anybody in the unit would tell you the same thing. But today, she was definitely dressed down. In fact, I thought she was sick when she walked into the meeting, like she had the flu.”

  “Thank you!” Eric blurted out. “Sam, thanks, that’s exactly what I mean.” Eric turned to Tom, in appeal. “Tom, you hear that? That’s proof. I swear to you, I did not harass her. I would never—”

  Tom raised a palm like a traffic cop. “Eric. You made your point, and Sam, thank you for the corroboration.” Tom nodded in Sam’s direction, then returned his attention to Eric. “But we haven’t gotten to that point yet, and Eric, you’re mistaking the purpose of this meeting. This is to determine and discuss, in a collegial way, whether you have any impairment issues. The procedure begins with the drug testing this morning. None of us was surprised to learn that you tested negative for alcohol or drugs in your system.”

  “Of course I did. I’m not impaired in any way.”

  Suddenly the mechanical crackle of the loudspeaker filled the conference room. “Code Gray, Drs. Parrish and Ward to Wright. Code Gray, Drs. Parrish and Ward to Wright.”

  “Oh no.” Eric jumped to his feet just as his pager went off, and in the next second, so did Sam’s, beeping simultaneously. Eric reached for his pager on the fly, but Sam beat him do it, with a gasp.

  “Chief, they called police to the unit. Must be Perino.” Sam got up and headed around the table toward the door, but Eric was closer and he reached the door first, flinging it open.

  Brad frowned, rising. “Code Gray, that’s a security issue, right? Is it an elopement? It’d better not be, and they shouldn’t have called the police. That’s not procedure.”

  “Tom, Brad, we have to go!” Eric called over his shoulder, with Sam on his heels.

  “Sure, go.” Tom rose, startled. “We can do this later.”

  Eric hustled down the hallway, his thoughts racing. He prayed to God Perino hadn’t hurt one of the nurses. “What’s the matter with Perino, Sam?”

  “Sorry, Chief, I’ll figure it out.” Sam hustled through the double doors leading to the Wright Wing.

  “Let’s take the stairs.” Eric took a left turn to the stairwell, pressed open the door, and took the stairs two-by-two with Sam at his side. They reached the first landing, and Eric heard the stairwell door opening downstairs behind them, followed by voices. “Is that Brad and Tom?”

  “Yes,” Sam muttered under his breath. “Somebody has to make sure we follow procedure.”

  “I hear you, brother.” Eric didn’t have to say another word. The last thing they needed during a crisis were two bigwigs trying to prove they knew what was going on in the trenches.

  “Eric, Sam!” Tom hollered up the stairwell, his voice echoing. “Right behind you!”

  “See you up there!” Eric hollered back, and he picked up the pace as they passed the third floor, then the fourth, and finally burst through the door on five, which emptied them next to the elevator bank outside the unit. They could see through the glass airlock that a cadre of blue-uniformed security guards and two men in suits stood with Amaka, who looked stricken. A ring of nurses and residents stood behind her, uniformly concerned, and Kristine stood, faking a frown, but Eric didn’t have time for her games because everything happened at once.

  “Oh God.” Sam swiped his lanyard ID for them both, and Eric got out his key ring and unlocked the outer door.

  Brad and Tom caught up with them. “What the hell is going on?”

  Eric rushed to Amaka. “What happened? Is it Perino?”

  Sam craned his head over the crowd. “Did he hurt somebody?”

  “Dr. Parrish, hello, I’m Detective Rhoades,” said one of the men in a dark suit, stepping forward. He was a tall beefy man about Eric’s age, with brown eyes and a wide, fleshy face. His hair was shorn close, so his scalp showed. “Dr. Parrish, we’re sorry to interrupt you, but it can’t wait. This is my partner, Detective Pagano.” He gestured to a skinnier, younger man who stood behind him.

  “Yes, what is it?” Er
ic asked, alarmed. “What’s happening?”

  “We’d like you to come down to the administration building and talk with us. We think you might have some information that can aid a current investigation.”

  “What investigation?”

  “It’s regarding the murder of Renée Bevilacqua.”

  Chapter Thirty-three

  “Renée is … dead?” Eric stood, stunned. He couldn’t believe it. It couldn’t be true. He felt shaken to his very marrow.

  “Who’s Renée, Eric?” Brad asked, surprised. “Is Renée a patient on the unit?”

  “No, it’s about one of my private patients.” Eric was reeling. His heart banged against his chest wall as if it were trying to escape.

  “Dr. Parrish,” Detective Rhoades said. “Will you come help us out?”

  Amaka touched his arm. “Eric, go if you have to. We can hold the fort.”

  “Okay, then, yes.” Eric tried to collect his agonized thoughts. Guilt overwhelmed him. His first clear thought was that Max must have done it, and Eric had made the wrong decision in not warning Renée or the police. But in the next moment, Eric felt torn by profound confusion and ambivalence. He still couldn’t really believe that Max would do Renée harm, or that Max was capable of murder.

  “Thanks, let’s go.” Detective Rhoades went to the door, and Eric numbly left the unit with the detectives, then got into an elevator and they rode downstairs in silence. The elevator doors opened onto the hospital lobby, and they hustled through the crowd of employees with HGH lanyards and visitors carrying Mylar balloons and gift-shop stuffed animals. They left the hospital, and Eric went outside with them, where the bright sunlight brought him from his reverie and the questions started to come.

  “Detective, how was Renée killed? When did this happen? Where was she found?”