Every Fifteen Minutes

by Lisa Scottoline

  Chapter Sixty-one

  Eric lay in a hospital bed in the ED examining room, coming back to his senses thanks to Narcan, an inhalant that directly blocked the effect of morphine, usually given to patients who were overdosing. He had a plastic clip on his finger to monitor his vitals and an IV port on his hand for a saline drip. He was still dressed in his clothes, damp from the sprinklers, and his shirt and hands were covered with Kristine’s blood, which hadn’t been completely washed away. Kristine was in surgery, and Eric didn’t know how she was doing. He sent up a silent prayer for her recovery.

  He closed his eyes against the harsh fluorescent lighting, trying to chase from his mind the image of Kristine bleeding on the office floor, her throat a crimson gash. He could hear the police, hospital administrators, and Laurie talking in low tones outside the examining room. Paul was on his way to HGH, having instructed Eric not to speak to the police without him. The chances of that were slim to none, anyway. Eric couldn’t tell the police what had happened before he’d had time to process it himself.

  Eric let it sink in that Sam had tried to kill Kristine, as well as the fact that Sam had actually been the one who had killed Renée. On the way down to the ED, Eric had told the police that Sam had admitted that he, and not Max, had murdered Renée, and they had promised him they’d tell the Radnor Police and Max’s attorney. Eric remembered that first night, when he had met Max and his grandmother, and it struck him that he was now in the very same examining room, so matters had come to a full, horrifying circle.

  He kept his eyes closed, feeling the loss of Max’s grandmother, as well as Renée and Kristine. It broke his heart to lose Sam, so horribly. So much violence, so much death. He flashed on Perino, trying to save Sam’s life at the last minute, which would take a toll on the man’s already fragile emotional state. Eric would have to study his file and follow up on Perino’s beliefs that Sam had been giving him pills that made him worse, not better. It was completely possible that Sam had manipulated and used Perino the same way that he’d manipulated and used Max.

  Eric shuddered, inwardly, to his very marrow. He would be replaying in his mind for a long time how he had put so much trust in Sam, which had been so profoundly misplaced. Eric knew as a psychiatrist that so many of us wore masks, showing one face to the world when our psyche was much different, so he should have known better. He realized he had a mask of his own, perhaps one that he had been wearing too long. The mask of the perfect Chief, who was number two and perennially trying harder. The mask of the perfect father, who protected his daughter too much. The mask of the perfect husband, who simply hadn’t been the man his wife wanted, in the end. Maybe it was time to let all the masks drop and to see what was really beneath them. When this was all over, maybe he’d call Arthur and get a refresher course.

  Eric felt his eyes film, and although he didn’t understand exactly why, he didn’t try to analyze his emotions. The only thing he knew for sure was the purity of the love he had for Hannah, and his heart felt light that he had cleared his name, not only for his sake, but for hers. His daughter, her friends, and the other kids at school wouldn’t think he had murdered anyone. He could go back to being a psychiatrist and a father, however imperfect. He would still think too highly of people he cared for, like Sam, and maybe even Caitlin. For him, love would always be blind, at least in the beginning. That couldn’t be helped, nor should it be. He was a human being, after all.

  “Hey.” Laurie peeked around the patterned curtain. “May I come in?”

  “Sure.” Eric smiled, happy to see her, and Laurie smiled back, walking over to the bed.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Better.”

  “The police are waiting until you feel well enough to make a statement, but I told them to cool their jets.”

  “Thanks.”

  “In the good-news department, it looks like Kristine is going to make it, two transfusions later. We got to her just in time.”

  “Great.” Eric felt relief and gratitude wash over him.

  “In a final irony, her blood is AB negative, which is rare, and we ran out. Guess who had to give her a bag?” Laurie made a face, screwing up her nose adorably.

  “You?”

  “Yes. Don’t think it was easy.”

  Eric laughed. It felt good. “How’s my unit? A wreck?”

  “Getting cleaned up, but everybody’s calming down. Amaka’s in charge.”

  “Thank God. And Perino, how’s he?”

  “Down the hall, doing fine. His wife isn’t happy.”

  “I’m sure not.” Eric couldn’t think about it now. “Where were my other attendings, during the fire? David and Jack?”

  “David passed out trying to put out the fire. Turns out he has asthma. Jack was in Endocrinology, chatting up some nurse.” Laurie picked up his hand lightly, her fingers around his wrist. “Meanwhile, I’m here in a professional capacity, as your ED doc.”

  “Are you taking my pulse?”

  “Not exactly.” Laurie smiled.

  “Then you’re holding my hand.”

  Laurie smiled, wider. “You kissed me that night at the mall, in the car.”

  “That was your imagination. The whole thing, it was a fantasy of yours. It didn’t really happen. I didn’t run into the mall, either. Who would do something that stupid? Not me, I’m the Chief.”

  “You’re talkative, you know that?” Laurie leaned over and kissed him on the lips, once, then again, softly.

  “Wow,” Eric said, feeling a stirring in his heart that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

  Laurie straightened up, smiling sweetly. A dark curl fell over her eye, freeing itself from her pencil topknot. “You like my bedside manner?”

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

  “Ha!” Laurie’s expression changed, growing serious. “Well, I suppose I should say you were right, and I’m glad of it. You believed in Max a lot more than I did, but he didn’t kill that girl. So happy ending, right? Kind of?”

  “Kind of.” Eric felt a pain in his chest. “It’s just awful that Renée was murdered, so young, and for such a stupid reason. As if any reason could justify murder.”

  “Why did Sam do it, again?”

  “He wanted to be me. More accurately, he wanted what he perceived I had. He wanted the applause, and really, he wanted the money.” Eric thought back to what Sam had said on the patio. “I’m going to talk to the powers that be and tell them to investigate Brexler on the Pharmacy Review Board. If that jerk is getting kickbacks from the drug companies and that’s how he built that damn Myrtle Beach house, I want him in jail. Enough with the gossip. It’s criminally actionable and I’m not going to tolerate it anymore.”

  “You’re a changed man.” Laurie smiled, proudly.

  “You’re damn right I am.”

  “Then I’m with you.” Laurie bent over and kissed him again. “How about dinner tomorrow night, after work? I owe you a gin and tonic.”

  “Your place?”

  “Perfect.” Laurie smiled at him again, just as the patterned curtain was moved to the side and they both turned to see Paul sticking his head into the examining room, looking from Laurie to Eric with a slowly spreading grin.

  “When’s the wedding, kids?” Paul asked, in delight.

  Chapter Sixty-two

  Eric spent the next two hours in the conference room on the executive floor, meeting with Captain Newmire, Detective Rhoades, and the assistant district attorney. He’d changed into another set of generic sweats from Paul and had told them everything that had happened, from when he found the omissions in Virginia’s medical file to the horrifying fight on the patio. They asked detailed questions, which he answered as completely as possible, subject to objections from Paul, who never let the authorities get anywhere near the issue of confidentiality. Sitting to his left during the questioning was Mike from Legal, and beside him Tom and Brad, all of whom listened quietly and took notes, but asked no questions.

  Whe
n that was finally over, Eric still had a question. He turned to Detective Rhoades. “Now that you know Max is innocent of Renée’s murder, what happens?”

  “It’s not quite that easy. We’ll follow up on your statement, investigate, and touch base with his lawyer, to see if they will cooperate and give us an interview. Obviously, it isn’t enough to rely on what you said, though that’s no reflection on your credibility, but rather on the credibility of Sam Ward.”

  Eric winced at the mention of Sam’s name. It was still so hard to believe that Sam was gone, having died such an awful death, and Eric was still wrapping his mind around the fact that Sam had tried to murder Kristine and sabotaged Perino’s health, much less betrayed their friendship. Eric knew it would take some time to sort out his conflicted feelings, but at bottom, he felt raw and aching, the pain of loss and grief.

  “Max still has to deal with criminal charges stemming from the hostage-taking at the mall. That will be a matter not for us, but for the Upper Merion Police and Captain Newmire.” Detective Rhoades nodded in Captain Newmire’s direction. “Would you like to address that?”

  Captain Newmire cleared his throat. “Dr. Parrish, I’ll have to discuss it with the assistant district attorney, who will discuss it with the district attorney.”

  Eric thought it sounded like law-enforcement buck-passing, but every institution had its own bureaucracy, whether they wore badges or white coats. “Where is Max now?”

  “Max is being moved to one of the local mental health facilities for evaluation and treatment.”

  “Which facility?” Eric felt Paul kick him under the table, but he was beyond worrying about that anymore.

  “I’m unsure, at this juncture.” Detective Rhoades glanced at Captain Newmire, who was already getting up, getting his notes in order, and slipping his ballpoint pen into his pocket. “I think we’re finished here, though we’ll have to ask you to remain within jurisdiction.”

  “What, why?” Eric asked, surprised.

  Detective Rhoades frowned. “Just until we’ve investigated your statement, Dr. Parrish.”

  “Fine.” Eric read between the lines, that was just a matter of time.

  Paul shook his head. “Don’t make me sorry we played ball with you, Detective. I’m not out of ammunition yet and I can still do you damage in the press, especially after today.”

  Detective Rhoades stood up heavily, picking up his pad and slipping it inside his sport jacket. “Gentlemen, thank you very much. We’ll be in touch.”

  Mike sprang to his wingtips. “Officers, let me show you out.”

  “Thank you.” Detective Rhoades crossed to the door with Captain Newmire and the assistant district attorney. They said their good-byes, then left, and Eric could hear Dee Dee outside, offering to take them to the elevator.

  Mike came back into the room and closed the door behind him. “Eric, we need to talk.”

  “I’ll say.”

  “Allow me, please.” Mike glanced at Brad and Tom as he returned to the conference table, pulled out his chair, and sat back down opposite Eric and Paul. “I know I speak for Brad, Tom, and the entire PhilaHealth Partnership and HGH family when I say that we appreciate your efforts—”

  “Enough.” Eric held up a hand. He couldn’t hear another word that sounded like an employee manual. “First, I want to be reinstated as Chief immediately. It should be obvious by now that Kristine’s sexual harassment claim was bogus. She did it at Sam’s behest, probably for a recommendation, and you can verify that with her when she’s well enough. I want you to issue a press release immediately, and I’ll start back to work tomorrow, to keep some semblance of continuity for the patients and clean up the unit.”

  Mike blinked, flustered. “Uh…”

  Tom nodded. “Done,” he answered simply.

  “Second, I’m concerned about any drugs Sam may or may not have been giving Donald Perino while he was treating him and—”

  Mike interjected nervously, “I’m sure Mrs. Perino will file suit.”

  Eric let it go. “Lawsuit or no, it’s important for the integrity of my unit, and the hospital, that we apppoint an independent investigator to look into this matter. I would do it myself, but I think that will raise the question of a conflict of interest.”

  Paul added, “You want to avoid even the appearance of impropriety.”

  “Right.” Eric nodded at Paul, then turned to Mike, Tom, and Brad. “I don’t want to pull any punches on this investigation. We have to have somebody look at it with a hard eye and let the chips fall. If Sam did anything to harm Perino’s care, I want to know about it, even if I’m held responsible as his boss and even if the hospital is held responsible as his employer.”

  Mike’s eyes flared. “As a legal matter, any such acts or wrongdoing by Sam would be criminally negligent acts and outside the scope of employment, and therefore the hospital would not be liable. You have the most to lose, Eric, in the event of a lawsuit by Mrs. Perino. I’m sure her attorneys would argue that you were negligent in your supervision of Sam and—”

  “Stop.” Eric held up a hand again, shifting his attention to Tom. “Do I have your word on that? We start an independent investigation?”

  “Yes.” Tom nodded. “We would order such an investigation, given the potential liability of the system as a whole. The last thing the PhilaHealth Partnership desires is to allow any such wrongdoing to taint our reputation for patient care. As you know, I’m a surgeon. If we need to cut, I’m not afraid to cut.”

  “Good.” Eric read between the lines, hearing that he might have to take the fall for Sam, but be that as it may. He knew now that if he got fired, he would survive. He’d certainly been through worse.

  Tom cleared his throat. “Then we agree. It’s my hope that we will weather the storm, no matter if Mrs. Perino files suit, and that you wouldn’t be liable for any negligence, especially given your number-two ranking, which we are about to roll out and—”

  “No rolling,” Eric cut him off. “Stop the rolling.”

  Paul chuckled. “You mean slow your roll.”

  Eric smiled. “I do. How did you know that?”

  “I might be in love with you.”

  Eric faced Tom, his smile fading fast. “Third, you need to send a letter to U.S. Medical Report telling them that we withdraw the HGH psychiatry service from the ranking. Given this debacle, with patient care so grievously compromised, we cannot go forward and accept that ranking. I will not go in front of any camera, smile, or make any speech.”

  Mike gasped. “Eric, really?”

  Tom frowned. “Eric, think about what you’re saying.”

  Brad looked at Eric like he was crazy. “You can’t mean this. You’ve been through hell today, this past week. You’re under enormous stress. We apologize for the role we may have played in that, however inadvertent, because we were completely misled by that young girl—”

  “Stop.” Eric shook his head. “Kristine was a victim. She was Sam’s victim as much as Renée Bevilacqua. I’m not going to play ball with the ranking. I suggest you withdraw us before it becomes public, then nobody will be the wiser.” Eric paused, thinking clearly. “And I promise you this—next year, we’ll earn that ranking. And it won’t be number two. It’ll be number one.”

  Tom and Brad exchanged glances, and Mike clammed up.

  Paul interjected, “Eric, I do, I love you.”

  Eric ignored him. “Last point.” He turned away from Mike, to Tom and Brad. “I want an independent investigation, by outside counsel, of Morris Brexler and any financial misconduct he may have been engaged in on the Pharmacy Review Board. We’ve heard the rumors about him taking kickbacks to promote certain drugs, most recently, Rostatin. You don’t need me to tell you that there’s corruption in our profession, from which drugs get approved by the FDA down to what gets carried in the hospitals, and what’s given as ‘free samples.’ I’m not content to turn a blind eye to my suspicions any longer. I want to do something about it. At the same ti
me, nobody knows better than I do that it’s unjust to be wrongly accused. If Morris is taking some kind of kickbacks, we need to stop him and punish him. If he’s not, we need to clear him.”

  Brad, Tom, and Mike fell momentarily speechless.

  “Well?” Eric said, coolly.

  Tom answered, “You’re asking a lot, Eric.”

  “It’s about damn time, isn’t it?”

  “We’ll take it under consideration.”

  “You’ll see the wisdom of my suggestion, or the press will.” Eric glanced at Paul, slyly, then back to Brad, Tom, and Mike. “Did you know that Harry Truman never said, ‘Give ’em hell’? He said, ‘I never said give ’em hell, I told the truth and they thought it was hell.’ Now, boys, take care. I’m going home.”

  Eric rose, and so did Paul, almost in unison. They walked to the door, and it struck Eric that the last time he was in this room, he’d been asked to pee in a cup.

  He left without another word.

  Chapter Sixty-three

  It was dark by the time Eric left the hospital parking lot, holding up his hand against the camera flashes and klieglights of the media, which were being held back by HGH security guards. The local TV was already running the story of Sam’s grisly death on a continuous loop; Eric had shut off the examining-room TV when the breaking news banner had come on, HORROR AT HGH.

  He accelerated until he left the hospital campus and noticed a few news vans in his rearview mirror, so he turned right, then left, trying to lose them. It didn’t work, and he stopped trying. They had his home address already, and he had something more important he wanted to do.

  He stopped at a traffic light, slid his phone from his pocket, and dialed Caitlin’s cell number, so he could speak to Hannah. The dashboard clock read 10:23, but he still wanted to give it a shot. The phone rang a few times, then went to voicemail, so he hung up. He tried the house number, and it rang and rang, then went to voicemail, too. He hung up, and the traffic light turned green, so he drove forward, vaguely defeated. He’d wanted to talk to Hannah to let her know that he was okay, but at a deeper level, he knew that he wanted to hear her voice.