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

by Judith Lucci

  Alex and Jack, each caught up in their own thoughts, were silent for a few minutes. Seeing the events in black and white convinced Alex and Jack there was a plot against the hospital. The Voodoo curses were appearing and reappearing in the ED shootout and the burn injury.

  Then Alex continued, "Another question is who has a big enough grudge against Robert to want to destroy him? Are the events at CCMC related to someone wanting to buy his land?"

  "Yep", said Captain Francoise. "Good question. Another is whether they want to destroy Dr. Bonnet and CCMC together. Are they the same people and are the events related?"

  Alex thought for a few seconds. "Can't imagine why they're together unless they are related in some way. There’s just too much happening too quickly. Maybe someone's just interested in destroying Robert and the fallout on CCMC is just that, fallout. But then, Robert wasn’t directly targeted in the ED shootout.…"

  "I doubt it. And, I think there's another rotten egg at the top." Francoise glanced up in the air and looked even more disgusted.

  "Montgomery? No way. That self-serving bastard would never sabotage his own hospital,” Alex was adamant. Then noting Jack’s face, she said, “What aren't you telling me?"

  "I don't know. This is in confidence, of course. I got called into the chief's office late yesterday, and was told to play the CCMC thing down. You know, the spiel to lay low. Just go slow on the investigation."

  "Huh? What? That's unbelievable! Why would anyone want to stop us from finding out what is going on here? People are getting killed and injured every day, and the whole city's reeling from this bogus voodoo scare. I'd think the chief would want these crimes solved. Could you have misunderstood?" Alex's voice was loud, her eyebrows raised and her face revealed the incredibility of the Captain’s confidence.

  "Be quiet, for God's sake, Alex. I shouldn't have told you. No, I'm not wrong, and I got a clear read on this stuff from the brass, and the word was to back off. I think this thing's rotten to the core. There must be some really heavy hitters involved, corruption at the top. That's all I'm saying. Well, almost all. I have a couple of questions for you."

  Alex nodded, still smarting from the news that someone high up in the NOPD wanted to ‘sit’ on the problems at CCNC.

  Captain Francoise continued. "Don said no one was interested in buying the hospital and that the trustees had voted to stay independent. Right?"

  Alex nodded affirmatively. "To the best of my knowledge that's correct."

  "Have there been any changes in the trustees recently?"

  "Well, no, not really."

  Suddenly she remembered the new member at the board meeting this week, the man with the ordinary face. "Wait a minute, yes, we do. There's a new member. I'd never seen him until this week. I haven't been introduced to him, and I can’t remember his name."

  Then it dawned on Alex, "But you know what, Captain? He hates Robert. You should've seen the look of hatred cross his face when Robert appeared at the meeting. It gave me the shivers. I'll call Latetia, Don’s secretary, for his name and address."

  Alex grabbed her cell to phone Don's secretary.

  Francoise was still staring at the piece of paper they'd composed when Alex clicked off. "She's at lunch. I'll track her down later and call you."

  "Okay. Here are my numbers. The first one is a beeper, then cell and home. The cell is the best number. I’m never in my office. I'll call you right back." Francoise prepared to go but looked as if he had something else to say. His face was concerned.

  Alex pressed him. "What? Is there something else?"

  Jack was silent.

  "Ask me. We're on a roll. I’m actually beginning to like you." Alex gave him a playful smile.

  "It's a little harder, Alex. Hope you won't take this wrong." He hesitated. There was an uncomfortable pause and Francoise stared at the floor and played with his car keys.

  "Stop staring at the floor. Tell me Francoise, let me have it." Alex couldn't imagine what could be so difficult.

  Francoise began slowly. "Understand you've been seeing Mitchell Landry. How well do you know him?"

  Alex felt a knot in her stomach. "I've been seeing him about three months. Why? What does Mitch have to do with anything?"

  Francoise ignored her question. "Sorry to question you like this, but I have a good reason. How well d' you know Landry?"

  "Mitch and I see each other socially. It's a perfectly respectful relationship, Captain. Why'd you ask?" Alex could feel increasing stress and tension in her neck, headed towards her temple.

  Francoise seemed distinctly uncomfortable with Alex's anger, but he wasn't going to give up. "You know anything about his habits?"

  "What habits? I know all about his passion for art and nineteenth century literature. I know he loves opera and theater. Is that what you mean?" Alex's voice was caustic and she was pissed as she scrutinized the police captain. She noticed Jack's discomfort.

  "Landry's a compulsive gambler. Gets him into big trouble. Guess you didn't know."

  Alex gasped and her face paled. “What, you’re crazy.”

  Jack Francoise averted his eyes and looked apologetic.

  "Mitch is a gambler?" Alex's voice was sharp. "I've never ever seen him play board games? You have got to be wrong!" Alex was shocked and unbelieving.

  "He's been in trouble before because of his gambling. Has unscrupulous, nasty friends that show up when he's overspent his credit line.”

  Alex was quiet for a few minutes as she thought about the implications of what the captain had said. She remembered the man who'd approached Mitch outside her apartment, and the two men she'd noticed outside Café Volange last night. Finally she spoke.

  "I know nothing about Mitch's gambling. He's been a good companion and a friend to me." Alex was visibly upset because she had tears in her eyes.

  "Sure you're okay?"

  "Yeah, thanks for telling me, Captain Francoise."

  "It’s Jack. Take care Alex, and be careful. I'll be back around later this afternoon." The captain's voice was gruff, but his look was gentle as he touched her shoulder on his way out.

  Alex felt like crying the moment that Francoise left. Mitch'd been the only positive thing in her life, and now, even he was suspect. She was developing a terrible headache. Wish I could go home, she thought as she left the Cajun Café.

  Chapter 17

  Alex returned to her office and became more depressed as the hours passed. She continued to think about what Francoise had said. I had no idea that Mitch gambled, she thought. I can't imagine he's involved in this. I'll never get over it. I had no clue. There has got to be something wrong with me. What have I told him about CCMC? Alex’s brain was trying to replay the tapes of her recent conversations with Mitch as she tried to remember what she said or had not said to him about CCMC in last few weeks. Did I betray the hospital of any confidentiality? I probably haven't told him anything of substance, but I probably shouldn't have told him anything. Why am I so stupid, such a loser? A nagging voice reminded her she'd talked about some of the situations at the hospital. She'd voiced her concerns about the press coverage.

  The more she thought about things, the more anxious Alex became about her relationship with Mitch. Of course Mitch knows I've seen Robert... he left my house on Tuesday so Robert could stop by.

  The more Alex concentrated, the more jumbled her thoughts became and the more her head ached. After several hours of reviewing things in her mind, Alex was convinced that it was preposterous to think Mitch could be involved in the mess here. If he's a compulsive gambler, I'll find out myself. I'll ask him. Nevertheless, Alex couldn't put the images of the stout man with the cigar and the man with the ponytail out of her mind.

  It was clear to Bridgett that her boss was having a bad day. After several attempts to cheer her up, she finally said, "What gives, Alex? I've never seen you so down. Is it Diane's death or the accident with Mrs. Henderson, or what?" Bridgett's blue eyes reflected her concern.

  Alex
looked up at Bridgett. "Don't know, Bridge. I guess I'm just tired. It's been a rough week."

  "No, that’s not it. Don't look so sad, Alex. The weekend is coming up. You've been waiting for this weekend for months. Try to put this CCMC stuff behind you and have some fun. After all, you do have a date with a hunk."

  Alex groaned inwardly. Yeah, a compulsive gambler hunk that I'm not sure I know or trust anymore, Alex thought.

  "I'm going home. I have a bad headache and I don't have any appointments for the rest of the day, do I?"

  Bridgett shook her head no. "Get some rest. You need it."

  "I’m just tired. I haven't been sleeping well this week. Nobody has. By the way, did Latetia give Captain Francoise the name of that new board member? Do you know his name?"

  "Nope, don't know, but I'll handle it. Get out of here. I'll take care of things for the rest of the day and I'll call you only if absolutely necessary. I promise."

  "I've been called three days this week because of extreme emergencies. You'll need a better excuse than that." Alex was laughing as she got up from her desk. "See you tomorrow."

  "Don't forget your ball gown. You need to pick it up at Yvonne’s,” Bridgett reminded her on the way out.

  "Got you. I'm out of here. Take care." Alex went straight home, not caring to stop at Yvonne LaFleur for her ball gown.

  ***

  Mitch woke up at eleven o'clock that morning with a terrible headache, and little recall of the previous evening, at least the latter part. The dinner with Alex and his late night visit from Frederico and the stranger, he remembered. The burn on his forearm confirmed that visit. He also remembered his quick trip to Gulf Shores to gamble. He'd played blackjack at the Casino Magic, lost a bundle of money and his credit line. He recalled two men approaching him at the Biloxi Belle Casino, closing in on him while he was drinking Scotch. The men, gangsters no doubt, had "reminded him to deliver the goods by tomorrow night". After their threat, they'd become friendly and had a drink with him.

  Mitch couldn't remember anything after that. I don't even remember getting in my car and driving home. God, I feel terrible, he thought as he staggered out of his bed to the nearby bathroom. He was repulsed at what he saw in the mirror. His left eye was purple and swollen shut. The right side of his face had a long jagged scratch down the side. Mitch became ill as he rationalized he must have been drugged not to remember getting beaten. It terrified him not to remember.

  When he recovered several minutes later, he rushed to the window to look for his Lexus. It wasn't there. No wonder I don't remember driving home. He returned to his bed and remembered he had no car, no money, no info for Frederico and his gangster friends, and no means of escape. After dismally surveying his situation and seeing no plausible way out, he went to his bureau and pulled out his forty-five semi-automatic.

  As he fingered his gun, he decided he really didn't have many options. I'm going to be dead tonight anyway, he thought. They're going to kill me if I don't get some information from Alex. Mitch held his gun for a few minutes as he felt the cold steely barrel and fingered the etching of the serial number. Then he made his decision.

  Chapter 18

  Sunlight was streaming through her windows as the staccato ring of her house phone jolted Alex out of a deep sleep. She grabbed for the receiver, her clock radio indicating it was after five. She'd been sleeping for over three hours. The unmistakable voice of Jack Francoise greeted her groggy hello.

  "You sleep? It's Happy Hour!" Francoise joked.

  "I left work a little early. I had a terrible headache, came home, took some aspirin, and fell asleep. Feel much better now." Alex was surprised but she really did.

  "Good. Listen up. I got the name of your newest board member, Jonathan Mercier. He's from somewhere in the Midwest, and now lives in Slidell. The interesting part of it is that he spent a fair amount of time in Virginia a few years back. He oversaw some kind of huge commercial real estate venture and made a ton of money. He bills himself as a venture capitalist."

  Alex said, "What commercial development?"

  "Damned if I know what development. I ain't no Forbes rep reporting on the lifestyles of the rich and famous. Anyway, that's all I know. He seems to be on the up and up, at least no rap sheet. I'm going to talk to some people at his office. As far as I'm concerned, this guy's too clean a package for my jaded brain. The fact he lived in Virginia when Bonnet was in medical school is interesting to me, especially since you said he looked like he hated Robert."

  "Good. Let me know what you find and get some rest, Captain. It makes you feel much better," Alex yawned loudly, not meaning too, right in Jack’s face. “Whoops, ‘scuse me.”

  "Can't and can’t. Got a hot date with the voodoo Queen."

  "Huh?? What're you talking about?"

  "Late tonight there's a voodoo gathering out at the Lake near the Bayou St. John. Voodoos been hanging there since the beginning of time. I'm gonna look up a few old friends, see if they got a handle on CCMC. Should be real fun."

  Alex immediately remembered the gathering. “Can I go with you? I think they know something about CCMC."

  Francoise's voice was curt. "Hell no. You out of your mind? These meetings aren't for the faint hearted. They're pretty ugly, sometimes gory, kill animals and run around naked. No way in hell." Francoise's voice was firm. "But, what makes you think they know something?"

  Alex hesitated, and then decided to tell him. "I went to the voodoo museum last night, and the woman there told me they did. I was thinking about going myself, but to be honest, I forgot about it after everything today. Take me."

  "No way. I'll talk to you in the morning." Jack’s voice was gruff and he clicked off the phone.

  Alex spent a restless evening, hoping Mitch would call, and then prayed he wouldn't. She vacillated between wanting to see him and never wanting to see him again. After thumbing through several magazines and toying with her TV remote, she took a long hot bath. She was just beginning to relax when the phone rang.

  She answered it quickly, thinking it was Mitch.

  "It's Robert. Nothing new has happened. I just wanted to check on you. Do you know anything?"

  "Do you remember our new board member? He gave you some pretty angry looks while you were talking. He looks like he hates you."

  "Jonathan Mercier? I know him, and does he hate me. Why?" Robert said curiously.

  "Well, Francoise said Mercier spent some time in Virginia, and the captain thought you may know him. He's checking all possible leads to figure out who's after you. How do you know Mercier and why does he hate you?"

  Robert sighed into the phone before answering. "He thinks I killed his wife and baby."

  "What?" Alex nearly jumped out of the tub and got water all over the bathroom floor.

  "When I was a surgical resident in Virginia, his wife was in a terrible auto accident on I-64 near Charlottesville. She was eight months pregnant, had massive internal injuries and a ruptured spleen. The steering wheel had crushed her chest and her trachea. She couldn’t breathe. I did an emergency trach and surgery, but she didn't make it. She really never had a chance. Neither did her baby."

  Alex was jolted back seven years. "Never mind, Robert. I remember this now. It was awful. You were upset for weeks afterward."

  "It's one of those cases that have haunted me for years. I felt like a failure for a long, long time. Mercier still blames me for his wife's death. For months he wrote me letters, which threatened to sue me and have my license revoked, anything to cause me pain and difficulty. He tried to sue me, but it was thrown out as being frivolous. He tried to take me before the Board of Medicine in Virginia, but they would not hear the case. That made him angrier. He was in a rage for months."

  "Could he still be in a rage after all of this time because of the accidents that happened to your patients?"

  "I don't know. I certainly wouldn’t think so. It’s been almost seven years." Robert paused as he considered the possibility.

  Alex
could picture him, thinking hard, his forehead wrinkled up.

  "I almost panicked when I saw him at the trustees meeting. I knew trouble could come from it, but I forgot about it until now."

  "We need to talk to Jack." Alex could feel her heart thudding.

  "Yeah, we will. First thing in the morning. If you need anything else, call me. Have a good night." Robert's voice was warm as he said good-bye.

  After her talk with Robert, Alex became more restless. I'm going to the voodoo gathering, she decided. The heck with what Francoise says. He'll never know I'm there. She considered calling Martin, but decided against it since she knew he'd try to talk her out of it. He’d already told her it wasn’t safe. What the hell, she thought, I’ll drive myself.

  At eleven-thirty, dressed in black jeans, a black hooded sweatshirt sweater and black boots, Alex drove her silver BMW down to the Bayou St. John near where it intersected Lake Pontchartrain. On the way, it occurred to her that she had no idea what she was going to do or how to talk to the Voodoos or any way to get to the person or persons who might know something about the CCMC incidents. I'll just have to play it by ear, she thought. It couldn’t be too bad, she admonished herself.

  When Alex rounded the bend in the road, she immediately heard the sound of drums. She parked her car in a grove of trees next to a new Lexus. She convinced herself that anyone owning a Lexus couldn't possibly believe in voodoo. Alex walked towards the lake where she noticed a group of about two hundred people congregated around several bonfires.

  She stayed hidden in the shadows under a tree and peered through the mist at the water. Between two fires stood a table, covered with a black cloth. A round white cloth covered the ground below the table.

  It was cold and damp. Alex pulled her hooded sweatshirt closer around her body, and she stretched the hood to cover her face. The chill of the night air and the icy fear racing through her veins made her shiver.