Chaos at Crescent City Medical Center (Alexandra Destephano Book 1)

by Judith Lucci

  Robert and Alex drank decaf in Alex's kitchen while she told Robert about Captain Francoise's findings. Robert hadn't heard any of it, and his face showed his dismay. When Alex told him the suspicion of voodoo, Robert shook his head.

  "There's more here than meets the eye. Has to be. There's got to be some sort of plot against us. I'll have to admit, Alex, this voodoo stuff can be very nasty."

  “No doubt about this. It is nasty,” Alex said as she watched the emotions cross Robert's face. Finally, a look of realization appeared, followed by a dread.

  Robert stood to leave. "Got to go. Just remembered something important."

  "What's wrong? You look as if you know something. Does something make sense to you?"

  "No, nothing, at least nothing I can prove. I'll let you know." Robert checked his watch. "I have a 7:00 a.m. case." Robert stood, looking at Alex.

  Alex's voice implored him. "If you know something, tell me. Two heads'll be better than one."

  Robert shook his head. "It's probably nothing, no sense adding fuel to the fire. It’s just a few loose ends I need to follow-up. I'll talk with you tonight after I've checked some things out."

  "Is this related at all to the things we discussed last night?"

  "Maybe, well… no not really. I really must go."

  Alex walked over to Robert's side of the table and noticed the morning edition of The Times Picayune that had fallen off his lap as he stood to go. Her eyes were riveted to the headline. For the first time in the four years Alex had lived in New Orleans, the newspaper headline was four lines deep: "Voodoo War on CCMC, Shoot-Out Kills Three, First Lady Unconscious, CEO Claims Conspiracy".

  The text under the headlines contained graphic, detailed descriptions of the events of the previous day, so detailed Alex and Robert couldn’t believe the accuracy. Alex was beginning to agree with Liz that something was rotten. She wondered how journalists were able to acquire such factual information. She decided to hold Don accountable. He was the only administrator unstable enough to have leaked information. At some point, Don must've told the reporter someone was conspiring against the hospital. Besides, she liked blaming Don.

  "This is really strange. Elizabeth didn't tell any of this at the press conference yesterday. She didn't know it. We didn't know most of it until after nine last night. How do these people get their information?"

  Robert replied wryly, "The article reeks with disclaimers of ‘an unofficial source' or 'an eyewitness report'. Seems they have a pretty good investigative reporter with an inside track to somebody. Don must've talked with them at some point. Think he told them?"

  "He’s my choice, but I wouldn't think so. Of course, Don's not predictable these days. Regardless, it's going to give Don and John a heart attack, so don't venture too far from CCMC. What's today’s date anyway? This week's been a year long!"

  "It's February 22, 2012. Things are going to pick up and get better. They have to. Keep your chin up. I need you to keep me running. Besides, the way I hear it, you're practically running the hospital."

  Alex smiled and said, "Thanks, that's not entirely accurate but it does feel like that. We're all trying to pull together."

  "From what I've seen of Montgomery, he's been virtually useless.”

  “No argument from me there.”

  “I've gotta go. Talk with you tonight."

  Alex had another cup of coffee after Robert left and re-read the news accounts. She was pretty sure there was a leak in the upper ranks of the hospital. Alex shrugged her shoulders, cleaned up the kitchen, and headed for the shower.

  Her phone was ringing as she emerged from the shower. It was Don’s secretary, telling her to hurry in for a seven-thirty meeting. Latetia assured her no more trouble had occurred. After she hung up the phone, Alex called for a cab. By the time she'd finished dressing, Martin was waiting for her at the curb. His straight dark hair was held in place by some sort of oily substance. Although Martin referred to himself as a Cajun coonass, Alex had often wondered if he had a bit of Native American Indian in him as well. His oddly colored eyes were often noted among New Orleans Cajuns.

  There was concern all over Martin’s darkly complexioned face as he held the door open for Alex. "Looking good, Alex. I'd suspected you'd be worn right down to a crocodile skeleton by now. These days been bad for you?"

  Alex laughed as his description. "You're so refreshing. You're the only person in three days who hasn't wanted something, so it means a lot. Yes, it’s been hard lately."

  "I guess it’s pretty bad there at the hospital. My first load, they told me that they was leaving town two days early 'cause of the voodoo. They're from Texas and said they was scared. They visited that voodoo museum down in the Quarter and got their pants scared off. Museum folk told 'em the worst was yet to come. I took them to the airport first thing this morning. Said they couldn’t wait to get outta here."

  "The museum told them more was coming? What else did they say?"

  "That's about it. They just ranted and raved that this city wasn't Christian, was a heathen’s hellhole. Said they couldn’t spend money in such a heathen place. Sorry I didn't ask them any questions. They gave me double my money just to get 'em out quick. They ain’t the only ones. Airport was jammed, lotsa people leavin’ and we are booked for the day with airport trips"

  "That's okay. Where's the voodoo museum? Do you think they really know anything?"

  "Doubt it. Mostly sells souvenirs, power, Gris, and things like that. I guess they're more in it for the moneymaking than real voodoo people. I take lot of folks there, tourists. Most like it, though it's sort of spooky. Want to go sometime?"

  "Where is it, the museum?"

  "There’s several in the city but the most common one is down in the Quarter on Rue Domaine. It ain't too far."

  "Think they'd know anything about what's going on at CCMC?”

  "Don't know, though you never can tell. I'll take you if you want, but I’m not too sure it’ll be good for you. Nasty stuff to mix with."

  "Not now. I've got a big meeting. Lots going on."

  "We be pulling in the hospital five minutes. Sit tight." Martin accelerated and the big white cab pulled recklessly in and out of traffic.

  Alex gave Martin a big tip. She continued to think about the voodoo museum as she walked to her office.

  She had just enough time to lay down her purse and listen to her voice mail before making her way to administration. The most important calls were from Mitch, who'd left four messages. He'd apparently been calling since late yesterday afternoon and left his last message several minutes before. Alex wondered why he hadn't phoned her at home last night, but made a mental note to call him the first chance she got.

  When Alex entered the boardroom, she was startled to see Governor Raccine and Andre Renou sitting at the conference table. Don, Robert, John, and Elizabeth were also there. Her stomach knotted as she anticipated the worst. Robert had obviously postponed his surgery. She was afraid something terrible had happened to Grace Raccine and immediately looked toward Robert who appeared as uncertain as she and the others. Don was busy sucking up to the governor but Raccine could look less interested. He appeared worn-down, but intense.

  Don opened the meeting by saying, "Governor Raccine has asked that we meet this morning to discuss what's happened in the past few days. I believe you know everyone here. Governor Raccine, the floor's yours."

  Alex was amazed at how charming Don could be. He was a regular Jekyll and Hyde. She knew he could be a silver-tongued devil and was awed by his ability to turn on his charm. She was also pleased that he was behaving. Well, she thought, if he doesn't behave himself in front of the Governor, I guess he won't behave himself in front of anyone. Don's not a complete idiot. He knows we need state money to stay in business.

  Governor Raccine, admittedly Creole, was a curly, white haired, seasoned politician who had the square-faced good looks of many elected officials. Her grandfather had mentioned to her several times that beneath that
polish and veneer was the strength, steel, and tenacity of a cobra ready to strike for what he wanted.

  Alex smiled at the governor as he began to speak quietly, "I'm here for several reasons. First of all, I want to thank you for the care you've given Grace. The expertise of the nurses and Dr. Bonnet has been much appreciated, but that has been marred by the situation several nights ago. It was unpredictable and tragic, but I'm sure that my wife will recover in good time with the continued support of Dr. Bonnet and our family."

  As Governor Raccine paused for several moments, his gaze moved to each hospital executive's face. He continued, "My second reason for calling you together is not quite so simple. I realize this medical center is one of the finest in the world and certainly, one of the finest in New Orleans…”

  Alex could feel her skin begin to prickle up like something bad was coming. ‘One of the finest’ was an indicator.

  The governor continued, “I can't tell you how dismayed I am that things are so unsettled. There's nothing that you could've done to prevent these tragedies or curse, or whatever it is. I'm confident you'll be able to recover from the damage that has been caused by these events."

  Alex thought a big one's coming here. She hastily glanced at her colleagues and noticed the Governor had their rapt attention, except for Don. He was smiling, probably still basking in the "caring expertise of the staff and best medical center in the world" line and didn't have a clue of what was coming. Alex could feel her heartbeat picking up, and felt a little short of breath. She glanced at Robert, whose eyes met hers. He knows something’s wrong too, she thought.

  The Governor continued. "In the meantime, I've received some distressing news from my Secretary of Tourism. Two major conventions scheduled here canceled their reservations because they consider the city ‘cursed’ and many hotels are reporting cancellations, up to sixty percent for this weekend. The reasons are clearly and directly related to the voodoo curse against Crescent City Medical Center that has been headline news on every national and cable television news program in the country as well as in the print media."

  Don replied, "This is ridiculous…the curse is ridiculous. CCMC's not to blame for this."

  "Mr. Montgomery, I must remind you again that it is the disaster here at CCMC that has made national news. Media attention has been directed at the hospital and at New Orleans in general. Did you know that my personal tragedy is colorfully detailed on the front cover of People magazine this week? There is even a picture of Grace unconscious in her hospital bed with that horrible look on her face!" The Governor surveyed the group around him noting the incredulous looks of everyone around the table. Everyone was shocked at his announcement. The Governor, trembling with either rage or anxiety repeated his announcement. "Yes, CCMC's on the front cover of People and a very graphic and detailed description of what happened to Grace at this hospital is the lead story in the issue that's to be released at noon today."

  No one in the room responded. No one knew what to say.

  "I detest this kind of publicity for many reasons…a major reason being the revenues we count on to run the state that comes from tourism. You all know that we are just now beginning to recover from Katrina, both financially and from an image standpoint. Everyone still remembers the horrors that occurred during the storm at the Superdome. The reputation of New Orleans has been, shall we say, in the gutter, for years since Katrina. Now it is happening again. Consequently, I believe that the events surrounding the hospital are causing the city an additional image problem and drastically affecting tourist revenues. I want you to close Crescent City Medical Center for an undetermined length of time, at least for the next few weeks, so that we can begin to rebuild our tourist industry, which is the bread and butter of this state."

  The silence in the room was deafening. Each person was weighing the implications of closing the hospital.

  Dr. Ashley spoke first. "Governor, isn't there another way? We've a number of patients awaiting transplants…we have surgeries scheduled. We have loyal patients who'd be uncomfortable going to other hospitals."

  The Governor looked at the physician and replied in a quiet voice. "I'm aware of what you’re saying, and I'm aware that you have many international patients. These people can be treated at Tulane, Ocher, or Jefferson. I'm sure your physicians will be willing to send patients to those facilities. I'm sure we can direct most of your nursing staff to those agencies. I see this measure as short term. Your patients will see the same staff, hopefully, and only the location will be different."

  Don interjected in a calm voice, "I simply can't close this medical center. I need to talk to our trustees and move in the direction that they suggest. If we close our doors, it's doubtful we'll ever recuperate financially, or recover public confidence. It would take us months, maybe years to reopen considering the bureaucratic red tape we could encounter. Closing would be admitting defeat. It would cost hundreds of employees their jobs and incomes. I can't and I will not make such an arbitrary decision." Don's voice was firm.

  "Gather the board and tell them what I've proposed. I'll contact each of them as well. There's no other way to do things differently. I understand that war powder was a part of the last incident. Because of this, I'm not convinced that the trouble has ended here for Crescent City. I'm sorry for the inconvenience this causes you."

  Alex finally spoke. "Can we talk about this a little further?”

  The Governor nodded and Alex continued “There're several things that come to mind. First of all, isn't it possible that the trouble is over? Isn't it likely all this'll blow over in a few days? As soon as there's something else for the media to jump on, they'll forget we ever had a black magic scare here at CCMC."

  Governor Raccine shook his head negatively and responded, "Alex, I can't answer that question, since I've no idea what the future will bring. I can't predict national or local events. Sure, if some national agenda demands attention, then New Orleans and the voodoo war won't be featured on the national news in every town in America. We don't have that guarantee. Remember, it was just yesterday that the voodoos declared war on CCMC. Whoever is behind it has an ax to grind and I, for one, don’t think it’s over. It couldn’t have come at a worse time for the city. You had another question?"

  "Closing the hospital gives strength to the people responsible for the scare. It’s a victory for them. At the risk of sounding impertinent, Governor Raccine, would you have closed the courthouse if it had been shot up by a group of voodooists, or terrorists? If we bend to this kind of pressure and fear, what'll these people do next?” Alex finished, expecting to be chastised by Governor Raccine.

  After a considerable silence, Raccine responded, “Ms. Destephano, your points are well taken. In my mind, the voodooists are terrorists, they are just homegrown. However, the gravity of the crimes that have been committed here are considerable. People come to hospitals expecting a safe environment, to feel better, to be free of pain and mental stress. At this point, CCMC cannot guarantee these things and it is more likely that others will be hurt."

  Alex persisted, "We've stepped up our security. The police are cooperating, and you offered us access to the state police. We accept."

  Governor Raccine pondered Alex's words.

  She continued, "The Drug Enforcement Agency and Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms are involved already. They'll be providing additional security, too.”

  Governor Raccine thought for a moment, then spoke. "I get your point. Nevertheless, much of what you say is true. We don't want to suggest that voodoo has this kind of power in New Orleans. In view of your argument, I'll issue a five-day reprieve until Sunday, unless there's further evidence of cult-related violence. If there is, you will close your doors immediately, just as soon as patients can be transferred to other health care centers.”

  A feeling of relief flooded the room.

  Raccine continued, "Be advised that I know CCMC operates as a private hospital and I'm aware that your charter is unique, but y
ou can easily be closed, either by me, or by a vote from the state legislature. Mr. Renou will coordinate the State Police investigators and security."

  "Thanks, Governor. We appreciate your help," Dr. Bonnet said.

  The Governor nodded. "There's one more thing. With Dr. Bonnet's agreement, I'll be transferring Mrs. Raccine to East Jefferson Medical Center. Thank you for your time." The Governor immediately left the board Room with Andre Renou on his heels.

  Dr. Ashley looked at Alex and said, "Well, you pulled us out for a while. Hope our trouble's over and things settle down. He'll close us down if anything else happens."

  Don exploded. "The SOB doesn't have the power to close us down. It's incredible that he even considered it!"

  "Shut up Don! Get a grip and sit the hell down," Robert said. "He's the governor and his party's in power. He can do any damn thing he wants. Don't forget that forty percent of our patient base is indigent care, and indigent care is completely funded by the State. With Charity being destroyed in Katrina, this hospital will be in the red in two weeks without state revenues."

  Donald Montgomery said, “Shit, that forty percent is only about twenty-seven percent of our gross revenues. This thing's political. Something we don't know has caused this. He's getting pressure from somewhere. Maybe someone agreed to take the curse off his wife or something. I've never heard of a governor attempting to close a hospital. It's ludicrous!" Don quieted down for a moment, and then continued. “Besides, it probably won't make a damn bit of difference anyway. Our inpatient census has dropped again. We're losing thousands and thousands each day. We'll be bankrupt in three weeks if this keeps up."

  Elizabeth stood up. "I've heard enough of this. Let's be positive and focus on security, safety, and the media. Thanks to Alex, we have five days to clear this up. Let's use our time to work together productively."