Diagnosis Death pft-3

by Richard L Mabry

  Samuels leaned toward her. "Are you all right?"

  "I'll take that water now, if you don't mind."

  The therapist disappeared through a side door and returned in a moment with two frosty bottles of water. Elena drained hers fast enough to make her temples hurt. Samuels uncapped his bottle and sipped, his eyes never leaving her.

  "Do you want to go on?" he asked.

  "Yes. Obviously, it's a relief to hear that I wasn't responsible for Chester Pulliam's death, but I need to know for sure about Mark."

  He put his almost-full bottle on the table. "By your recollection, you sat with Mark as you had done for two weeks, holding his hand and talking to him, hoping he could hear you. You'd decided there was no hope of recovery for him, so you told him what was coming. You kissed him and said, 'May God give you peace. May God give both of us peace.'

  "

  "Is that when I turned off the ventilator?"

  "No, that's when you went to the family room to cry. That's where they found you to tell you Mark was dead."

  Elena couldn't hold back the tears.

  "Does this help?" Samuels asked.

  "More than you can ever know," Elena said. "I didn't act in a fugue state. I'm not a threat to patients. The only thing I did wrong was write Mark's DNR order when I couldn't find Dr. Matney to tell him I'd finally reached that decision. Oh, yes. It helps."

  Samuels remained silent, apparently waiting for her to say more. What more was there to say? She felt as though a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

  He sipped once more from his water. "Don't you wonder who actually was responsible for these deaths? And why?"

  And with those words, she felt her shoulders sag once more.

  Summer days were long in Texas, and daylight savings time added yet another hour of sunlight. When Elena pulled out of the parking garage, the setting sun was low on the horizon, almost blinding her. She looked at the dashboard clock and did some fast calculation before she pulled into the parking lot of a steak house near Samuels's professional building. If she took her time over dinner, the sun wouldn't interfere with her drive home.

  An hour later, Elena climbed into her car, started the engine, and cranked up the air conditioner to high. There was no reason to hurry home, and this was probably as good a time as any to try the call. She pulled her phone from her bag and checked the display: three-fourths charged.

  The yellow slip was still in her purse. Elena's fingers hovered over the phone keys like a scared diver peering over the edge of the high board. She took a deep breath and punched in the number.

  One ring. Two. Three. Four. Then a soft voice answered. "Hello?"

  Even if Elena hadn't been aware of the number she'd dialed, she would have recognized that husky alto from the single word. She'd never thought much about the expression "her blood boiled," but it was as though she could feel it roiling through her veins at this moment.

  Again, "Hello?"

  "Karri, this is Elena." She rushed on, anxious to get the words out. "Don't hang up. I'll just keep calling. We have to talk."

  "Why?"

  "Why? Because I know you've called every week to torment me. I suspect the letters came from you too. And now I know that you took Chester Pulliam off life support. Tell me why."

  There was the click of a lighter, the sound of a deep inhalation, a satisfied exhalation. Elena pictured Karri drawing on the cigarette, blowing smoke into the phone. Her next words dripped with venom. "You poor sap. You never knew, did you?"

  "Knew that you and Mark were having an affair? No, I didn't know until after his death. That's when I found the note he'd written, the one telling me it was over between us."

  Karri's cackle was right out of the story of Hansel and Gretel, the wicked witch enjoying the confusion of her victim. "Like I said, you never knew. I met Mark when he was working on some computer issues at the hospital. We seemed to click. For a while I thought something might come of it. Then I asked him to leave you."

  Elena struggled to keep control of her voice. "What happened?"

  "He told me he loved you. He planned to beg your forgiveness. It was over between us. That note you found was meant for me."

  "So Mark-"

  "Mark was unfaithful to you a couple of times. Big deal. When it came down to it, he wanted you, not me. Then he had that stroke and died." Another puff of the cigarette. Elena could almost smell the smoke. "When I couldn't take my anger out on him, I decided to vent it against you. That's the reason for the calls and the notes. I wanted you to worry that you'd ended his life without knowing it. I wanted to wreck your life, the way Mark wrecked mine when he got my hopes up and then dashed them."

  "And Chester Pulliam?"

  "Same thing. I thought it would really mess up your head if you were accused of that one as well. I even transferred from Zale to St. Paul to get the opportunity." Elena heard another puff.

  Elena remembered the dark-haired nurse who ducked into a room in the ICU to avoid her. "How could you know I wasn't the one who took Mark off life support?"

  "Because I did! I waited until you left. Then I sneaked into his room, shot him full of some morphine I'd been saving out of patient shots, and turned off his respirator. As much as he hurt me, I couldn't stand to see him go on the way he was. He was going to die anyway. And I figured I might as well use it to hurt you."

  A car pulled up beside Elena. A couple got out, favored her with a curious glance, then walked side-by-side into the restaurant.

  "One more question," Elena said. "How did you manage to get into the ICU here at Summers County General? How could you arrange the patient death here?"

  Karri seemed genuinely puzzled by the question. "I don't know what you mean. I don't even know where Summers County is. All I know is you must not have changed your cell phone, because I used the number we had in the ICU at the hospital."

  Karri was still talking when Elena broke the connection. She'd solved one mystery, but another one remained. Who killed Charlie Lambert? And why did they want to blame it on her?

  The insistent tapping roused Elena. She raised her head from its resting place on the steering wheel of her car and turned to look at the couple she'd seen enter the restaurant earlier. The man tapped once more, and Elena lowered the window.

  "Are you all right?"

  "I'm all right. I've just had some disturbing news."

  The woman leaned over her husband's shoulder. "Is there anything we can do? Are you okay to drive?"

  "I'm fine. Thank you."

  Elena watched them climb into their car and pull away. She'd have to stop using parking lots for her private pity parties. Having strangers stop to offer assistance was embarrassing.

  It was almost dark now. Time to head back. She glanced at the reverse directions she'd printed, making sure she knew how to get out of Fort Worth and onto the road to Dainger. There it was again. Even though the experience had been emotionally draining, she'd felt safe in Josh Samuels's office. Now she was driving back into danger.

  As soon as she cleared the Fort Worth city limits, she engaged the car's cruise control and tried to do the same with her mind. She determined that she wouldn't worry for the next half hour. After all, she should feel relieved. It was unlikely that Karri would call again. Elena would have to talk with someone, perhaps Will, to see how to convey this new information to Dr. Matney.

  What did she have to substantiate what Karri told her? The recording Samuels had made during her regression therapy would back her up, but she could imagine a lawyer tearing it to shreds. Could she have recorded her conversation with Karri? Maybe, if she'd thought of it. But she hadn't. No, Karri had told her what she needed to know. That was more important than any legal confession.

  As her car moved through the gathering darkness, Elena saw two bright pinpoints in her rearview mirror. How long had that car been back there? She was going the exact speed limit, and in her experience that was an invitation for every car on the road to pass her. But
this one hung back. Either they were extremely law-abiding, or they were following her.

  You're being paranoid again. No, the person looking into her bedroom window hadn't been a figment of her imagination. And she was a woman driving alone at night. Reason enough to be a bit jumpy. She checked to make sure that her doors were locked. Her eyes scanned the gauges. Plenty of fuel, temperature fine, no red warning lights showing.

  She added ten miles per hour to her speed. The lights in her rearview mirror maintained their position. She slowed, and so did the car behind her, trailing as though at the end of an invisible cable. Elena saw the lights of home on the horizon. She sped up, determined to lead her pursuer to a safe, well-lit place as quickly as possible.

  She decided to head for RJ's. She took the appropriate exit and the car behind her did the same. Two short blocks brought her to the restaurant. She pulled into the parking lot, encouraged to see that it was almost full of cars, with people coming and going almost constantly.

  She kept her eyes glued to her rearview mirror. In a moment, a car slowed as though about to turn in, then accelerated away. There was plenty of light in the parking lot, but that just made the street leading to it seem darker, and it was impossible for Elena to make out details of the car. No matter. At least she'd managed to scare away her stalker.

  Elena restarted her car and had her hand on the gearshift when another car came down the same street she'd used. She recognized this one as soon as it entered the parking lot. She watched the black and white SUV rock to a stop in a no parking zone in front of the restaurant. Frank Perrin climbed out and gave her a casual wave.

  Elena rolled down her window but kept the engine going.

  Frank leaned against the driver's side door. "Aren't you even going to ask?"

  "Ask what? Why you followed me all the way from Fort Worth?"

  Frank showed a perfect poker face. "Actually, I didn't. I had a call to a fender-bender out near the Tarrant-Summers county line. I was about to head back when I thought I saw your car go by, with a black Chevy right behind it. It looked like he was following you, so I just made myself a caboose to your little train."

  Elena had a momentary pang over her decision to seek a safe place. Why couldn't she have simply driven home, so Frank could identify the man following her? Then again, who was to say that Frank wasn't the real stalker, and the car she'd seen was one he'd let get between his and hers to avoid identification?

  "Do you want me to follow you home?" Frank asked.

  Elena did her best to sound calm and casual. "No, but I appreciate your looking out for me like that."

  "All part of the service." He tipped his hat back and smiled. "Now that's two dates you owe me."

  "Thanks for bringing lunch." Cathy spooned up the last bit of soup and chased it with Diet Sprite. "I hope you didn't mind coming here. Milton still wants me to take things easy."

  "No problem," Elena said. "I wanted to talk with you, and this is a great way to do it. I just wish we had more time to get together."

  The two women were seated in the dining room of Cathy and Will's home. Elena looked around her and decided that one day she'd have a cozy house like this-neat but functional, attractive without being frilly. But that was a dream for another day.

  "What's on your mind?" Cathy asked.

  The front door opened and Will called, "Anybody home?" Cathy answered. "We're in the dining room. Elena brought soup and sandwiches. They're in the kitchen. Help yourself and then come join us." She looked at Elena. "Does Will being here affect the talk you wanted to have?"

  "No, actually I think some of this may require a lawyer's perspective."

  In a few minutes, Will was settled at the table, across from the two women. "Hope you don't mind if I dig in. I only have a half hour for lunch today."

  "Eat and listen," Cathy said. "Elena has some things to tell us."

  Elena took them through the story of her session with Josh and the conversation with Karri Lawson that followed. "It's good to know that I wasn't directly responsible for either death. Will, here's my question for you. Since neither Mark nor Mr. Pulliam had any chance of surviving, was Karri's action in discontinuing life support murder? Homicide? Manslaughter?"

  "Realize that this is pure conjecture on my part, but I can't imagine a district attorney taking a case like that to a Grand Jury. So the answer is probably 'None of the above.' "

  Elena nodded. "That's what I thought. Which brings me to my second question. What should I do about her confession? Should I contact Dr. Matney and tell him about it?"

  Cathy put down her glass. "Let me take that one. You and I both know how things work in a medical center. By now, Dr. Matney is knee-deep in the politics of trying to get that appointment as dean. Situations like this one fall into the category of 'out of sight, out of mind.' Why bring it up again? You don't need his recommendation. You've completed your training. You have a job. Your employer knows the truth and is satisfied. I'd leave it at that."

  Will held up his finger while he chewed and swallowed the last bite of his sandwich. "I think you should sit down tonight and write out a complete account of your conversation with Karri. Make it as close to verbatim as you can. Tomorrow, call Josh Samuels and ask him to lock up his notes of your session, including the recording he made."

  Elena thought about that for a minute. "Is that really necessary?"

  "It may never come up again," Will said. "But, if it does, it'll help that you put the story down while it was fresh. And Samuels's corroboration of what you said under hypnosis would be important."

  "I can see that, I guess," Elena said. "But it worries me that Karri is still working in the ICU. What if she decides that disconnecting people from life support gives her a thrill? Maybe she'll start to think she should be the one to decide who lives and who dies."

  "Don't you think that's a bit far-fetched?" Cathy asked.

  "After what she's done, I'd believe anything," Elena replied.

  They were silent for a couple of minutes. Then a smile brightened Will's face. "How about this? Karri doesn't know my investigator, Ramon. Nicest guy you'll ever meet, but he can act pretty tough if the situation warrants it. He could 'run into' Karri in the hospital cafeteria, draw her aside, and say something like, 'We know what you did. And if you so much as think of doing it again, we'll see that your license is lifted and you face the stiffest criminal penalties possible.' "

  Cathy chimed in. "What if she asks, 'Who's this we?' "

  Will grinned. "I suspect he'd give her a knowing look. 'You know. And don't forget it.' How's that?"

  Elena pondered that for a moment. "We could try it. I'd like to think this was a one-time thing, a way of hurting me because Mark dumped her to stay with me."

  Cathy tilted her glass and crunched a piece of ice. "That's settled. Now what about the person who murdered Charlie Lambert? We're not talking about withdrawing life support from a patient who's dependent on it. This was a man on the road to recovery. He might not be the same person as before his stroke, but he'd be alive."

  "I've been waiting for the police to come knocking on my door," Elena said. "If Nathan Godwin gives them that bottle of Anectine with my fingerprints on it, I don't see how I can avoid being arrested."

  "Either he hasn't called the police yet, or they're taking their time with their preliminary investigation. In either case, we still have some time. We'll try to come up with a solution before they get to you." Will pushed back his chair. "Right now, I'm due back at the office. We'll talk about this later."

  "Jane, this is Dr. Gardner." Elena snugged her cell phone against her ear with her shoulder and used both hands to wheel her car into the hospital parking lot. "I have one more stop to make before I come back to the office. Anything going on?"

  "Nothing that can't wait until you get here. Your first patient of the afternoon cancelled, so you've got a little time."

  "I'm at the hospital. Given the cell phone reception here, you'd better have the operator page
me if you need me."

  Elena wasn't sure where the office she wanted was located, so she took a moment to consult the directory in the main lobby. She envied David the opportunity to get to know the place he'd practice, instead of being thrown into the middle of it with almost no warning. But she was proud she'd been able to adapt so well to her role in Cathy's practice. If only everything else was going smoothly.

  She found the office number, determined its location using the map alongside the directory, and set out in that direction. As she walked, Elena rehearsed her speech. The Jefferson family had come to the office that morning with their mother. A review of Cathy's previous notes confirmed Elena's impression that this was a woman slipping further into the heartbreaking world of senile dementia. Mrs. Jefferson was totally out of touch with reality now, and there was no way her family could care for her at home. Elena hoped that the hospital's social worker might be able to help find an answer.

  Here it was, room 1003. She read the name on the door: N. Cook, Social Worker. Elena tapped on the door, and a pleasant female voice replied, "Come in."

  File cabinets occupied the space along every wall except for the door through which Elena entered. A scarred metal desk sat in the center of the room, and the woman behind it was almost hidden by a stack of papers. She motioned Elena to one of the two mismatched client chairs across from her and beamed a thousand-watt smile at her visitor. "Have a seat. I'm Natalie Cook. How can I help you?"

  Elena offered her hand. "I'm Dr. Elena Gardner. I-"

  The social worker's expression was one of pure shock. "How in the world did you ever find me?"

  "I beg your pardon?"

  "You're Mark's wife, aren't you?"

  "Do I know you?"

  "No, my mother made sure of that long ago." She leaned across the desk and Elena saw the resemblance before the next words confirmed it. "I'm Natalie, Mark's sister."

  20

  Elena felt as though she were inside a huge snow globe that some giant hand had given a shake. Her world had just turned upside down. "Natalie? But your name is Cook, not Gardner."