Sleight of Hand (16 page)

"Which is exactly the problem," Sterling put in.  "Dr. Hart seems unable to follow simple departmental procedures, much less–"

"I'll handle this, Karl," Ed snapped.  Cassie could see that much of his anger was due to Sterling's presence.

"Actually, the Executive Committee will be handling it.  I am certain that they will recommend an immediate suspension."

"Suspension!  But I haven't done anything wrong," Cassie protested.

"As if interfering with my patient and ignoring protocol isn't enough, don't you think that being the object of two malpractice suits warrants some action, Dr. Hart?" the pediatrician asked in an icy tone.

"Malpractice suits?" she managed to choke out.

"Ms. Tammy Washington is claiming medical neglect and failure to diagnose the illness of her son.  While Mr. and Mrs. Ulrich are claiming medical battery," Sterling informed her.

"Battery?"

"They state you did not receive informed consent prior to performing the invasive, painful and dangerous procedure of inserting an IO line into their son."

"That's ridiculous!" She not only had obtained Virginia Ulrich's consent, she had it documented on videotape.  

"You'll be able to tell your side of the story to the Executive Committee Friday morning at eight o'clock.  And, I explained to Children and Youth that your report of suspected neglect was the result of ignorance about the complexities of Charlie Ulrich's disease.  Not that they'd take you seriously after today."

"That's enough, Karl," Ed put in.

"Very well then."  The department chairman rose, his posture rigid.  He stood in front of Cassie for a long moment, shaking his head as he stared at her.  "I tried to help you, Dr. Hart.  Believe me, I regret that it has come to this.  Such a waste."  He departed from the office, the elder statesman delegating his deputy to perform the dirty work.

"You won't believe who sat beside me on the shuttle from Washington," Ed began.  "Senator George Ulrich–the same senator who canceled his appointment with me about the clinic funding.  So, good political opportunist that I am, I'm thinking this is fate, I've got the entire flight with him as a captive audience."

His eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward, steepling his fingers.  Cassie cringed, she knew that look all too well.  The same look that Ed had given her when she and Maria, his middle daughter, had stolen Ed's prized El Dorado to go joyriding and had smashed the fender.  The look that said–have you any idea what your impulsive, thoughtless actions have cost those around you?  

She chewed her lower lip and looked down at the floor.  It had been a long time since she had earned that look of disappointment from him.  Ed was like a second father to her, and Cassie knew that in the past he'd defended her actions to administrators and others in the hospital hierarchy.

"I'm sure you can guess that I never had a chance," Ed continued, his glare not softening.  "Instead I got an earful about an irresponsible ER physician who was intent on wrecking the Senator's family, turning their private tragedy into a public spectacle, and who wanted to take a gravely ill child away from his adoring mother.  Seems this doctor is young, ambitious and refuses to trust the judgment of our own Chairman of Pediatrics who has practiced for over thirty years and has won numerous awards."

Cassie looked up when he paused, bravely meeting his glare.  "Ready to hear my side of it?" 

"I don't care about your side or the Senator's or Sterling's.  All I care about is what is best for our patients.  Do you really think having the staff in an uproar, watching you and Sterling squabble is going to help Charlie Ulrich?"

"Of course not.  But it's not my fault if Sterling lectured me where everyone could overhear it."

He raised an eyebrow at that.  "From my understanding of it, you started things by not following procedure down here in the ER.  And then you accused Virginia Ulrich of abusing her child right at the nurses' station in the ICU.  My God, Cassie, why didn't you just announce it over the loudspeakers?"

"I had no intention of accusing anyone of anything." She faltered, remembering how smoothly Virginia Ulrich had countered all her concerns.  The mother had manipulated her into looking like a fool in front of the entire ICU.  

"Let me guess," she went on the offensive, "Senator Ulrich said he'd give you the money for the clinic if I back down?"

"No, in fact he refused to discuss the clinic at all–said it would be a conflict of interest.  And that, as a grandfather myself, I could understand how his mind wasn't focused on such matters while his grandson was so gravely ill."

"Oh."  Hardly the underhanded diabolic machinations she'd expected from the Ulrich family.

"Then I return here to find these."  He flung the malpractice notices onto the desk top.  "Not to mention a complaint by Rachel Lloyd stating that you endangered the life of both a patient and one of our own nurses!"

The veins in his neck began to bulge–a definite danger sign.  The ER staff was like family to Ed.  No one messed with them, not even his goddaughter.

"I was trying to–" she stammered, taken aback by Ed's uncustomary outburst of anger.  Ed often regaled her with stories of the explosive tempers of his Cuban father and Jewish mother, but he always prided himself on his own even temperament.

"You were trying to do the police's job for them," Ed cut in, his voice deceptively soft and level, "again.  I seem to recall you doing the same thing two months ago–getting yourself and Drake almost killed in the process."

"But–"

"No buts!  You don't carry a badge, you carry a stethoscope.  You have no business interfering with the police or their handling of a potentially violent situation in my ER."  

She cringed.  Ed's disapproval hurt almost as much as Drake's had.  Ed always supported her choices when it came to her patients and their care, had always trusted her judgment.  Until now.

"It doesn't help matters that the woman you're accusing was having an affair with your ex-husband while you were married.  Makes it look like you're out for payback, targeting her."

Cassie shook her head in confusion.  "Richard and Virginia had an affair?"

"You didn't know?  I've been back less than half a day and several people made a point of mentioning it to me–"

"No, I didn't know.  He never–I never–" She stood, planted her palms on his desk top and leaned forward, meeting his gaze.  "Ed, you have to believe me, I had no idea who Virginia Ulrich was when I met her.  Maybe she looked a little familiar, but after I heard her husband works with Richard's brother, I thought I must have seen her somewhere socially."

He pursed his lips but finally acknowledged his acceptance of her statement with a slight nod.  "Still, it looks bad.  Very bad."

"What are you going to do?"

He sighed.  "I don't have any choice.  As of now, you're on vacation until the Executive Committee renders their verdict."

She was silent.  The Executive Committee was composed of department heads and had the power to suspend or even revoke her privileges.  Which basically translated to a huge blemish on her career, one which would follow her everywhere she went to practice medicine.

The only thing worse would be actually being found guilty of malpractice.  She swallowed hard and nodded.  

"Have you thought that maybe you came back to work too soon?" Ed asked, his voice lower now, his anger spent.  "Maybe your judgment is impaired because of everything that happened–"

"I'm not crazy!"  The words came out strident, harsher than she had intended and so carried with them the opposite connotation.  Cassie tried again.  "Really Ed, I'm fine."  

He looked away, and she knew he was not convinced.  She got to her feet and started to leave, then turned back.  "You said we should focus on what's best for our patients.  Have you thought about what would be best for Charlie Ulrich if I am right?  Would you at least look at what I've found?"  

She held out the papers that had accumulated in the pockets of her lab coat, a peace offering.

"All right," he said, taking the stack from her.  "But this really is more a matter of investigating, not diagnosing–what does Drake say?  He's got good instincts about these things."

Cassie looked down.   Drake and Ed were friends, partners in the community clinic.

"You haven't told him, have you?" Ed asked.

"We're kind of taking things easy right now," Cassie tried to sound nonchalant and failed.  "He needs some space."  Why did it sound so reasonable when Adeena said it and so weak coming from her? 

Ed frowned, then nodded.  "Do you want me to talk to him about Charlie's case?  I'd trust his judgment, even take it to the Executive Committee as an objective evaluation if you'd like."

It was an offer that was generous–and one she couldn't accept.  Drake was her problem, her responsibility–as was Charlie Ulrich.  "No, that's okay, I'll talk to him myself."

<><><>

"Richard, I need you to do something for me."  Virginia leaned forward across the cafeteria table and gently brushed a breadcrumb from his cheek.

Richard King reveled in the warmth of her touch.  Ever since his accident, Virginia seemed the only person willing to touch him, to treat him as a man.  Why couldn't his Ella touch him like that?  He looked away, his vision blurring as he remembered Cassandra in his arms, her face lit up with a smile meant solely for him.  Her hand in his, her body beneath his...

"This is important."  Virginia's voice returned his attention to the crowded hospital cafeteria.  "Important to me, to the baby."

His gaze dropped to her swollen belly.  A baby.  Something he'd always wanted with Cassandra, but they'd never had.  Maybe if they had, things would have been different, so very different. 

"Is there a problem with the baby?" His words slurred with concern.  He reached an unsteady hand out to cover Virginia's.  Their on-again, off-again affair had begun while he and Ella were still married, and had deepened into friendship.  At least, that's how he remembered it.  

"I'm afraid that filing suit against Dr. Hart isn't enough.  I'm afraid that she'll manage to convince Children and Youth to take Charlie from me."  Virginia didn't bother to hide her tears from  him.  He squeezed her hand, wished there was more comfort he could offer her.  "Maybe Samantha as well, after she's born.  Oh, Richard.  What can I do?  All I've wanted in my entire life is to be a mother, to have a family of my own."

He knew.  Family was everything to Virginia.  She'd been guilt-stricken over their affair, over the way he had seduced her away from Paul Ulrich.  But the passion they had was overwhelming, irresistible for either of them.  Virginia once told him that without Richard's love, she'd never have the courage to survive Charlie's illness.

Once upon a time, Richard had been her strength, her hero.  He'd never been that for Cassandra–she never needed rescuing, never needed anything from him.  And he had so much he was desperate to give her.

"What can I do?" he asked, uncertain what to make of the anger that surged through him.  It was Cassandra's fault that Virginia was in this position.  Now he was the one who would have to make things right again.  How could the one woman he loved more than anything also be the cause of such pain?

"Would you meet with the Senator?  Tell him everything you know about Dr. Hart?  Help him find a way to convince her that I haven't done anything wrong."

Richard blinked.  Tell the Senator about Cassandra?  All he remembered were fragments, blurry bits and pieces of memories.  What he held on to were the feelings, the overwhelming rapture she stirred in his soul every time he caught sight of her, heard her voice.  And the hope, that tiny, secret spark of hope that one day she would be his again.

"I don't know," he started.

Virginia gripped his hand with a strength that was surprising.  "You have to.  I could lose my children because of her."  Her eyes met his, their grey depths the color of winter storm clouds.  "Please.  The Senator's a powerful man, he can help you."

"Help me get my Ella back?"

He saw her cringe at his nickname for Cassandra.  A cloud of sorrow crossed Virginia's features.  He was sorry he couldn't remember more about their time together.  A kaleidoscope of images: hands, bare flesh, rumpled clothes, panting in dark corners was the best he could do–although Virginia assured him there had been much more to their relationship than mere sex.  Still, it paled in comparison to the love he had for Cassandra.

Virginia looked down at their hands and nodded.  "Yes, Richard."  Her voice lowered to a soft whisper that fanned the embers of his hope.  "If that's what you want."

Richard felt his mouth stretch into a smile, even the side that was still dead to touch lifted higher at the thought of Cassandra Hart returning to him.  This time forever, he vowed. 

CHAPTER 13

An hour later, Drake and Jimmy were back in the car, weaving along the curved streets leading away from Eades' house.  Drake remembered now why everyone hated working cold cases.  Facing victims and their families, ripping the scabs from never-healing wounds.  

It was hard enough working with families freshly grief-stricken.  At least then you could offer some hope that you'd find justice for their loved ones.  But these interviews–remote from the immediate yearning for retribution, knowing that a loved one died in vain, a death meaningless even of protecting others by incarcerating the perpetrator–these interviews seemed only to remind survivors that sometimes there was no justice in this world.

Eades had given them nothing new except a glimpse into his and his son's own private hell.  And a handful of reports from Mitchell's school–both before and after his mother's murder.  The papers had been haphazardly filed together in the dim recesses of a drawer.  Eades had offered them to Jimmy, security against further visits from the detectives, the ghosts of the past.

As Jimmy drove, Drake skimmed over the detritus of Mitchell's third grade.  The teachers initially described the boy as painfully shy and withdrawn, blaming his speech impediment.  They said he was diligent in his work, but kept himself isolated and apart from the other children.  At one point the school psychologist began to work with Mitchell, hoping to quell some of his social anxieties.  He also tested the boy for any learning disorders that could be addressed.