Second Degree (Benjamin Davis Book Series 2)

by A. Turk

  Pierce had discussed with her client that he might have to take the Fifth Amendment, asserting he might be incriminating himself if he testified. Pierce anticipated that the state would argue that there were no criminal charges pending. In response Pierce would argue that no criminal charges were pending yet, but who knows where these matters might lead? That was the last strategy Charlie had been told about, and he didn’t like it. He hoped the new undisclosed strategy was better and less incriminating.

  Judge Thomas Booth called the hearing to order. He had the panel members identify themselves and their medical specialties. He had Ms. Pierce and Ms. Hecht identify themselves, and Ms. Pierce introduced Dr. Garcia to the panel.

  Then Judge Booth took control. “Are there any preliminary matters that should be addressed?”

  Pierce stood and addressed the judge. “Yes, Your Honor. Dr. Garcia moves for the court to recuse and disband the panel because of a clear conflict of interest and potential bias.”

  That got everybody’s attention in the courtroom, particularly the panel members.

  “Explain yourself, Ms. Pierce. That’s a bold statement.”

  “Your Honor, please be advised that Dr. Frank Alder’s ex-wife is a patient of Dr. Garcia, and under the Code of Ethics, that would constitute a clear conflict of interest.”

  “I don’t understand … ,” Dr. Alder blurted out.

  Pierce was ready for anything Hecht might have to say, and Hecht was on her feet prepared to argue. “This is not a medical malpractice issue. I could see the conflict argument if the board was seeking to revoke Dr. Garcia’s medical license for negligent practice. Then Dr. Alder’s ex-wife’s patient relationship might be relevant. But this is about Dr. Garcia having sex with patients, not about the care he provided.”

  Grasping for straws, the judge addressed Pierce, “Ms. Hecht makes a good point, Ms. Pierce.”

  Pierce snapped back, “How do you know Dr. Garcia didn’t have sex with Ms. Alder? That would disqualify Dr. Alder, wouldn’t it?”

  Dr. Alder jumped up. “Did he?”

  The panel member was both angry and confused. Pierce knew she’d disqualified Dr. Alder. There was no way Judge Booth or anyone else in the courtroom would consider him unbiased at this point.

  Judge Booth took a ten-minute recess to think about the pending motion and to read certain sections of the Code of Ethics.

  Sullivan leaned over and whispered to Davis and Morty, “A brilliant delay tactic!”

  Morty quickly responded, “It’s brilliant, but it’s not a delay tactic. Watch this.”

  When the judge returned, he ruled that Dr. Alder was conflicted from sitting and that the hearing would have to be continued to date uncertain until a full panel could be appointed.

  “Any other preliminary motions since we’re all together before I adjourn this hearing?”

  Pierce stood again and handed a document to the clerk and to Ms. Hecht. Charlie had no idea what was on the piece of paper, but judging from Hecht’s reaction, it was spectacular. The document was also handed up to Judge Booth, who also reacted strongly.

  “Ms. Pierce, what is the meaning of this?”

  “I think the document is clear and straightforward. Dr. Garcia has surrendered his Tennessee medical license. Therefore this administrative body has no jurisdiction over him. He is not subject to your authority. He is a non-licensed person as far as Tennessee is concerned. All charges must be dismissed for lack of jurisdiction.”

  Pierce handed the clerk and Hecht a ten-page brief with more than a dozen cases cited. The judge took a one-hour break to read the brief and do his own research.

  During the break, Pierce, Dr. Garcia, his father, and Harrelson met in a private office near the courtroom. As soon as they got in the room, an agitated Charlie asked, “What the hell just happened in there?”

  Harrelson responded, “Ms. Pierce just saved your New York medical license and saved you the embarrassment of losing your Tennessee medical license. You couldn’t testify, and you couldn’t successfully take the Fifth. It was a no-win situation. Ms. Pierce got Dr. Alder recused so that there wasn’t a full panel and the charges couldn’t proceed. Once the court ruled that the hearing was continued, it allowed Ms. Pierce to surrender your license, and the court no longer had any authority over you. It was absolutely brilliant.”

  Harrelson tipped an imaginary hat to Pierce.

  Still confused, Charlie asked, “What do I do now?”

  Señor Garcia answered Charlie’s question, “You come home to New York and practice medicine there. Your mother and I will help you get started. You need to behave yourself, no more trampy women. I want you to find a nice girl and settle down.”

  Judge Booth dismissed the charges against Dr. Garcia, and two days later he returned home to New York. He just shut down his practice in Nashville. Damn his patients, even the ones who paid deposits. Harrelson would sort all that out.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  ESCAPE TO NEW YORK

  Saturday, March 14, 1998

  It didn’t take Dr. Charles Juan Batista Garcia long to settle into his new surroundings. Charlie knew New York City; he’d grown up in part there. He’d also gone to medical school and completed his residency and fellowship there.

  His father set him up in a medical office on Park Avenue. Dr. Charles Garcia hung out his shingle and began practicing oral and maxillofacial surgery.

  Charlie loved the city, and despite his promise to his father that he’d settle down, he was out almost every night. He vowed on a stack of Bibles and his sainted mother’s life that he wouldn’t sleep with his patients. In Charlie’s mind, however, every other woman in New York was fair game.

  He drank to excess and used various recreational drugs. He was convinced that he could stop at any time. His caseload was light, he didn’t need the money, and he never scheduled a surgery before noon to allow for his recovery.

  On this particular Saturday night, Charlie was in the company of a beautiful Brazilian woman, Monica. After dinner, they went to Charlie’s favorite country bar on East 53rd Street. He’d found several country bars in the city and spent several nights a week at one or another. Charlie still missed Nashville and its music scene. When he lived there, he often went to music venues; his favorite in Nashville was the Bluebird Café.

  He also missed Robyn. She was a head case, but she had her virtues. Those nights Charlie didn’t go out, he stayed at home and watched videos of himself and Robyn.

  As for his current date, Charlie couldn’t decide whether he wanted to sleep with the woman or perform surgery. He knew that he had to make up his mind. He swore on his mother’s life he couldn’t do both.

  He told her, “You’re a very beautiful woman, but I could make you even more beautiful.”

  The young woman laughed and asked him how he would change her.

  Charlie looked her up and down and, in a serious tone, said, “I’d first give you Garcia kissable lips. I wouldn’t touch that smile. Your breasts are perky enough, but you could go up a cup size. I love the shape of your ass, but I’d recommend a lift. That’s my professional opinion anyway.”

  Like so many women, the mocha-skinned beauty had fallen for Charlie’s smooth talk and sexual appetite. She leaned in and planted her lips on his, and her tongue found its way into his mouth. Charlie felt a slight tingle. She ran the tip of her tongue along the roof of his mouth, and he achieved an erection. It didn’t take much for that to happen.

  Their table was located in a dark corner of the club. They were about forty feet from the stage. Under the table, she grabbed him.

  Charlie thought, There goes another potential patient. She completed her task while a young man in a black cowboy hat sang the theme to the Rawhide TV show starring Clint Eastwood.

  The next act was a group of six musicians with a female lead singer. Charlie could hardly believe his eyes: the woman was Robyn Eden. There was no mistaking her. She still had the most incredible green eyes of any woman Charl
ie ever seen.

  The band played three songs and then left the stage. Charlie excused himself, “Darling, I’ve got to go to the little boy’s room.”

  Instead he rushed backstage and knocked on the performers’ dressing room. A member of her band, with shoulder-length hair and a scruffy beard, answered the door. He must have been at least six feet six inches tall. In a booming voice, he inquired, “Can I help you?”

  “I’m a friend of Robyn. I’m Dr. Charles Garcia. Please tell her I’m here.”

  A moment later Robyn appeared at the door. She was just as he remembered her, with her white teeth, new chin, C cup breasts, and Garcia kissable lips. “Charlie, what the hell?”

  “Just give me a few minutes. I know I did you wrong. Please have a drink with me, and let’s reconnect.”

  “I don’t think so. You hurt me, Charlie. You abandoned me. I went into rehab after I got fired. Thank God, my sister got me help. Where were you? You just left me high and dry.” Robyn sounded more hurt than angry.

  Charlie turned on the charm. He’d smooth talked her before. He could do it again.

  “I’m a changed person. What happened to me in Nashville made me grow up. I’m back on track. Just give me a chance. I’m the man you fell in love with. I’ve put my demons behind me.” Then he added, “You look great and sounded even better.”

  Robyn smiled, and he knew he had her. Her next words confirmed it. “I could go for a cup of coffee and maybe some breakfast. I’m not on the same clock as the rest of the world. I go to bed at noon and wake up at seven. Why don’t you meet me at the front door in twenty minutes?”

  “I’ll count the minutes.”

  He left Robyn and went back to the table where his Brazilian date was waiting. He gave the explanation of a medical emergency as he put her in a cab. He wondered whether their brief encounter precluded her from being a patient. He’d ponder that thought and decided he wouldn’t ask his father’s opinion.

  Charlie didn’t have to wait long for Robyn. She’d changed into jeans and a black flannel shirt. Her hair was in a ponytail. Her intense green eyes sparkled, and Charlie felt his heart skip.

  They ate breakfast around the corner at a Greek diner. Charlie listened as Robyn explained her struggle to remain clean. After he left town, her sister, Peter Nichols, and others ambushed her and held an intervention. They forced her into rehab, where she suffered through a difficult detox. After ninety days at Cumberland Heights, she was forced to live in a halfway house.

  Despite the drugs and alcohol, music was her life, and she needed it even more than drugs. For her first year out of rehab she limited herself to studio work, but with time, she felt strong enough to go out on the road. She mostly stayed with club soda or near beer but occasionally slipped and fell off the wagon. When she did, she got right back up and started her sobriety from day one.

  Charlie was a good listener. They drank coffee and talked for almost four hours. It was a great reunion.

  The next evening after her show, they went back to his apartment. Charlie decided to take it slow, no sex toys, just pure lovemaking. But old habits are hard to break, and she was a willing participant. Charlie had forgotten just how kinky Robyn could be.

  They started with a little bondage, at Robyn’s suggestion. She got completely naked, and he admired her body. She lay flat on the bed, on her stomach. Charlie secured her arms and legs to the four-foot-tall bedposts with long gray silk scarves. He was careful not to tie them too tightly. Robyn squirmed in the bed, raised herself to her knees, and purred like a kitten. Charlie quickly undressed, and they did not stop until early morning.

  They spent the next ten days together, with Charlie attending each of her shows. Robyn finished her two-week gig and was scheduled to go to Philadelphia for a week.

  They both cried the morning she left town. Charlie told her that he loved her. They agreed to vacation together at the end of April. As he watched her drive off with the rest of the band, Charlie wanted her in the worst way.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  A TROUBLED ROMANCE

  Sunday, July 12, 1998

  After three months of a long-distance relationship, Charlie convinced Robyn to relocate to New York City. He promised her they’d be happy and she could find work in small local clubs. She found occasional work but not happiness. She wanted more from the relationship than Charlie was willing to give.

  She moved into Charlie’s Central Park West and 67th Street apartment. Its wrap-around balcony had a breathtaking view of the park.

  It was Sunday. Robyn didn’t have a gig, and Charlie had the day off. Their plan was to lie in bed all morning and read the Sunday New York Times from front to back. He propped himself up in bed and started with the front page on an article about Iran’s efforts to build a nuclear bomb. It was a little depressing, so he put the paper down.

  Charlie looked around his bedroom. It was professionally decorated to satisfy his masculine taste. His bed’s headboard of dark rich chocolate leather allowed him to sit straight up in bed. His aqua sheets were made of Egyptian cotton, an expensive one-thousand-thread count.

  In front of him was his six-foot-wide fireplace, which he used regularly in the winter months. On each side were twelve-foot-high walnut bookcases, which sported dozens of volumes of books and various knickknacks Charlie and his mother had collected over the years. The room was impressive, and so was the walnut and brass ladder that could slide from bookcase to bookcase in front of the fireplace.

  He returned to his paper, starting with another depressing article about the Mideast crisis. When he looked up, Robyn appeared in the doorway. All she had on was the top portion of his midnight blue pajamas. He stared first at her incredible green eyes. It was where he and every other man started.

  His eyes didn’t stay there long. They worked down to her partially opened top. She’d only done the bottom two buttons, and her breasts were readily visible. The pajama top barely covered her shaved pubic area. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t see it.

  He gave up and focused on what she was carrying. She had a tray with a silver coffeepot, set for two. Charlie spied a basket of croissants, butter, and his favorite orange marmalade. She poured each of them a cup of coffee, and Charlie applied a glop of marmalade to his croissant. He took a big bite and, before he could swallow, said, “Thanks for the coffee, I needed a cup. I couldn’t focus on the paper. Every story is so depressing.”

  “That’s why I don’t even bother to read the paper. Why get depressed?”

  She put the tray on the nightstand, got in bed, and snuggled up against him. Her mere presence excited him. It didn’t take that much. He threw the paper on the hardwood floor and started kissing her neck.

  She protested, “You promised that we’d read in bed all morning. There’s a legal thriller I wanted to start.”

  “What’s it called?”

  “First Do No Harm.”

  “Who’s it by?”

  “Somebody named Turk. It has a picture of Printer’s Alley on the cover. You know I performed in several clubs in the Alley.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t know you planned on reading it. I put it on the top right bookshelf.”

  She smiled and without a complaint moved toward the ladder and rolled it to the right. She began to ascend the ladder, and as she did her pajama top hiked up, revealing her perfect behind.

  Charlie was immediately aroused, jumped from the bed, and followed her up the ladder. She’d made it to the fourth step, and he was on the second when she reached for the book. As she did, he placed a hand on each of her hips. She trembled under his touch.

  She lowered herself to the third step, holding onto each rail of the ladder. As she did, he entered her from behind, pushing upward. She moaned with pleasure. This encouraged him, and he rhythmically moved inside her. Satisfied, she turned around on the ladder and was now facing him. Her bottom resting on the fourth step, he moved from the second to the third, and she met him the rest of the way. She used the side
s of the ladder to move up and down.

  After five minutes, Charlie finished, but he didn’t even make an effort to pull out. He would have if he’d known she’d stopped taking her birth control pills.

  They’d discussed children. He was against them, so she secretly plotted to get pregnant. She thought he’d have to marry her if she was carrying his bastard child. She was wrong. She misread Charlie Garcia. He’d never marry her because his parents would never approve. They had plans for their son, and Robyn Eden wasn’t part of those plans.

  They dismounted each other and then the ladder. She never got her book, and they lay there exhausted on top of the sheets. He was naked. She still had on the midnight blue pajama top, but it was now completely open.

  “That was great, wasn’t it?” She was looking for validation.

  He’d give it to her. Why not? It was great. “Absolutely. Couldn’t have been better.”

  “Do you love me?”

  Charlie felt a little cornered, but why pick a fight?

  “Of course.” He figured he’d keep it short and simple.

  But she continued to press. “I’m living with you. I’m screwing you. When am I going to meet your parents?”

  He needed to think quickly. He wanted to avoid a fight, but if he promised, she’d hold him to it.

  “The time’s not right. My relationship with my parents is very complicated. The best I can promise is someday.”

  “Fuck you, Charlie. Someday isn’t good enough. I’ve given up the road for you. You begged me to move in with you, so I did. What a fool I am. You said you’d changed. You’re the same selfish son of a bitch you were in Nashville.”

  She jumped up from the bed. Within thirty minutes she was packed and walked out the door without another word. Charlie didn’t try to stop her. He’d miss her, but what she wanted he just couldn’t give.