Code 15 (9 page)

“What kind of a case?”

“It involved a twenty-year-old motorcyclist who sustained a major head injury. The hospital followed their usual protocol and pronounced him brain-dead. He had designated himself as an organ donor, so they called the transplant harvest team from the university hospital. The trouble was when the transplant team was preparing the kid to remove his organs, he coughed.”

“Coughed? How can you be brain-dead and cough?”

“That’s just the point; you can’t. He was in a bad coma but very much alive. The organ harvest was obviously canceled and five weeks later the kid walked out of the hospital.”

“Are you kidding?”

“I wish I were.”

“So now what do you do?”

“I’ll write the hospital a diplomatic letter suggesting changes in their protocol for pronouncing people brain-dead.”

“That’s quite a story,” Dana said, signaling an approaching server. She then reached across the table and covered Morgan’s hand with her own. “How are you doing?” she asked.

“It’s been a rough few weeks. Getting back to work has helped a lot.”

A young man wearing a red apron and a white shirt strolled up to the table. “What can I get for you ladies?” he asked, placing a napkin in front of each of them.

“I’ll have a sour apple martini,” Dana said.

“A Coke for me.”

“A Coke? What happened to the queen of the margarita?”

“I’ve kind of lost my taste for margaritas,” Morgan said.

Dana smiled at her knowingly. “A temporary situation, I hope. Maybe about nine months.”

“I just found out a couple of weeks ago. I’m not keeping it a secret, but I haven’t exactly scheduled a baby shower at the Ritz either.”

“Congratulations,” Dana said, reaching across the table and squeezing her hands. “When are you due?”

“Late October.”

“That’s terrific news. I’m really happy for you.” Morgan and Dana spent the next fifteen minutes catching up on the latest hospital gossip. Dana was already working on her second martini when she asked, “When were you going to tell me about Kevin?”

Morgan sighed. “How did you know?”

“Discretion’s not one of Kevin’s strong suits. A bunch of the nurses have seen him out.” She reached across the table and took Morgan’s hand. “We’ve been friends a long time, and I’m not trying to poke my nose into your affairs, but if you need someone to talk to, call me.” She smiled painfully and added, “It’s not as if half of us haven’t been through the same thing.”

Morgan spoke to Dana for a few minutes about the divorce but when the time was right, she broached the topic of the Code 15 and Alison Greene’s death.

“I know you’ve already spoken to Dr. Walters, but as the chair of the Patient Safety Committee, I wanted to talk to you myself.”

“Sure.”

“Do you remember what Miss Greene’s condition was when you admitted her?”

“She was rock stable.”

“When did she start to crash?”

“It was about six hours after I got her from the recovery room. Her heart rate suddenly jumped from seventy to three hundred.”

“Then what?”

“She dumped her blood pressure. That’s when we called the code blue and began CPR. Dr. Balbuenas was on the floor and he came running. He’s one of the sharpest docs we have, but he couldn’t do anything to restore a normal heart rhythm.”

“The medical record said you coded her for about thirty minutes before you finally gave up.”

“That sounds about right.”

“The committee has been over every aspect of her care—every blood test, X-ray, and medication she received, and we don’t have the first clue what the hell went wrong. Do you have any ideas?”

“I’ve seen a lot of patients develop heart rhythm problems,” she said, shaking her head. “There’s almost always a reason.”

“Except in this case.”

“I wish I could help, Morgan, but I have no idea why she went into ventricular tachycardia or why we couldn’t get her out of it.”

“Were there any other nurses besides you taking care of her?”

“I took a dinner break but I don’t remember who I signed out to.”

Remembering Ben’s advice regarding looking beyond the obvious, she asked, “Forget about the medicine part of this thing for a second. Did anything unusual or unexpected happen?”

Dana held up her glass while she pondered the question. “The cross,” she answered.

“What cross?”

“After her parents left, she had another visitor. He said he was a friend. He was pretty talkative. He must have told me three times he was a professor at Broward College. I was a little surprised because he looked more like a jock than a professor.”

Nodding from the memory as she put her glass down, Dana said, “Right before he was about to leave, he put a cross around her neck.”

“What’s so unusual about that?”

“In the first place he wasn’t a family member, and in the second, he didn’t ask if it was okay. Most people would have. He just put it on, said good night, and left.”

“I still don’t see what—”

“Later on, when she coded and we started CPR, I removed it so it wouldn’t interfere with the chest compressions. When Balbuenas called off the code and we started to clean up, I put it back on. When her parents came in to see her and make the funeral arrangements they saw the cross and flipped out.”

“Why?”

“Because they’re Jewish,” Dana said with a painful frown. “It was on her admission facesheet but I had no reason to check. They were livid. They demanded to know how the hospital could have made such a thoughtless mistake.”

“What did you tell them?”

“I told them the truth and immediately apologized.”

“Did they calm down?”

“A little. They wanted to know the man’s name so I checked the visitor’s log and got it for them.”

Dana reached for her purse. She opened it and pushed her hand all the way to the bottom. After a few seconds of digging around, she pulled out a white envelope. She tore open one end and spilled a silver cross into her opposite hand.

“You saved it?” Morgan asked.

“I was going to report the whole mess to the nursing supervisor and give her the cross, but I guess with all the commotion, I forgot.” She handed the cross to Morgan and then pointed at the envelope. I wrote the guy’s name down right there. He signed in as I. Ogden. The parents told me they had no idea who he was.”

“Besides being a little talkative, do you remember anything else about him?”

“Not really.” Her mouth creased into a subtle grin.

“What?” Morgan asked.

“He had a big gap between his front teeth. The reason I remember is because he reminded me of the first guy I dated in college.”

Morgan held up the cross. Watching it twirl slowly on its delicate chain, it struck her as quite simple and inexpensive. The incident was certainly an unfortunate one, but of little importance with respect to the Code 15. She assumed Mr. Ogden was simply a good-intentioned friend who didn’t know Miss Greene was Jewish.

She set the cross down next to her cell phone.

“When are you working again?” Morgan asked.

“Not until the end of the week. I’m looking forward to the time off.” Dana pointed at Morgan’s empty glass. “How about another Coke?”

“I’d love to, but I kind of have a date.”

“What does that mean exactly—kind of have a date?”

“It’s just dinner.”

“Who are you going with? Do I know him?”

“I’m not sure if—”

Dana grabbed Morgan by the wrists. Her eyes widened. “Don’t tell me you’re going out with Ben Docherty.”

Morgan averted her eyes. “Why would you think that?’

“You are,” she said.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to. I knew it. Before he retired, everybody knew he had a major thing for you.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“I think I speak for every single woman in Broward and Dade County when I say if you take Ben Docherty off the most eligible list, we’re going to come after you with a noose.”

Morgan laughed. “I’d better get going.”

“Call me later. I want to hear every tawdry detail.”

“Thanks for your help.”

Morgan reached for the check.

“Let’s split it,” Dana was quick to insist.

“No way. This was hospital business. I’m sure Bob Allenby will be overjoyed to pick up the tab.” Morgan reached for the cross to return it to Dana. A puzzled look came to her face when she realized it was stuck to the metal casing of her cell phone. She pushed her thumb against it with increasing force until it finally slid off. Befuddled for the moment, she held up the cross to study it. “That’s weird.”

“What is?” Dana asked.

“This cross is magnetized.” Morgan put it back on the phone and then slid it off again. “It’s pretty strong for such a small thing.”

“I’ve never seen anything like that.”

“Do you mind if I hold on to this for a while?” Morgan asked.

“Go ahead,” Dana told her, sliding out of the booth. “I’m going to make a little stop before I leave. Call me.”

“Thanks again.”

Morgan held the cross up, studying it intently. There was something perplexing about it but she couldn’t quite figure out what. She put the cross against her cell phone again and slid it off. Deep in thought, she didn’t notice the man who walked past her on his way back to the bar. If she had, she might have noticed he had gapped front teeth and that his eyes were fixed on the crucifix. After another minute or so, Morgan stood up and headed across the restaurant.

Taking his seat at the end of the bar, Gideon clenched his fist in frustration. Even without her uniform, he had recognized Dana McGinley as the nurse who had taken care of Alison Greene. He’d been sloppy; a mistake he had compounded by underestimating Dr. Connolly’s persistence. After taking a minute to collect himself, he decided his oversight, while unforgivable, would not prove to be a fatal error. He glanced toward the front of the restaurant just as Morgan walked out. He dropped a ten-dollar bill on the bar and stood up.

By the time he reached the sidewalk, Morgan was getting into her car. He considered following her but decided to resist the temptation. Instead, he strolled off in the opposite direction. He was in no position to take any chances or speculate about anything. He had to assume Dr. Connolly now knew that Alison Greene was wearing the cross the night she died and that it was magnetized. The question was whether she’d be able to attach any significance to what most doctors would consider two unrelated facts.

For the moment he felt cautiously optimistic and saw no reason to alter his plans. But he would proceed with even a greater degree of care—fully aware that at any time, Dr. Morgan Connolly could figure out exactly how he had killed Alison Greene.

After racking his brain for most of the afternoon trying to decide where to take Morgan for dinner, Ben finally decided on Pizzola’s, a small neighborhood Italian restaurant close to the ocean.

They had been seated for about ten minutes when their waiter, a portly man with a meager salt-and-pepper goatee, brought over the bottle of Chianti Rufina Ben had ordered. Contrary to his earlier concerns, Ben was completely at ease. He held up the basket-bottle wine, waiting for Morgan’s approval. She pointed about one-third of the way up her glass. With the delicate aroma of simmering garlic drifting across the restaurant, Ben filled her glass to the level she requested.

“The food here is great here. I hope you’ll be able to enjoy it,” he teased, pointing to her stomach and then half filling his own glass.

“That’s usually a morning thing but I appreciate your concern,” she said with a mock laugh, reaching for the menu. “Actually, I’m famished. Everything looks great.”

The waiter returned and after listening to the specials, Ben ordered the stuffed tilapia, while Morgan selected a pasta dish with a spicy arrabiata sauce.

“Were you able to track down your mother?” he inquired.

“I finally caught up to her in Saint Petersburg. I left a message at her hotel. She called me back a few hours ago.”

“It seems like you’re speaking to her more often lately.”

“We’ve always been close. It doesn’t seem to matter how often we talk, but I think we’ve both been trying a little harder since my father died.”

“What does she think about you being pregnant?”

“She’s ecstatic about the idea. She’s already got the nursery in her house planned out.”

For the next hour and a half, they enjoyed their food, laughed, and talked nonstop about flying, traveling, and a host of other innocuous topics. There was no discussion of Code 15s, police investigations, or hospital politics.

While they were waiting for the cappuccinos they had ordered, Morgan asked, “How come you haven’t asked me about my meeting with Dana?”

“You seemed to be enjoying dinner. I assumed if you wanted to talk about it, you’d bring it up.”

Morgan waited until the waiter had placed the cups in front of them.

“Actually, I wouldn’t mind getting your input.”

“In that case, go ahead,” he told her.

“From a medical standpoint, it was pretty much as I told you. The only strange thing was that immediately before she arrested, she had a visitor. He signed in as I. Ogden. Dana said he was a professor at Broward College. Right before he left, he put a cross around her neck.”

“What’s so strange about that?”

“Nothing except Miss Greene happened to be Jewish. It caused a major problem when her parents came in to make the funeral arrangements and saw the cross.”

“I agree that’s an unusual thing to happen, but the explanation seems obvious enough. Whoever this visitor was, his heart was in the right place. He just didn’t know she was Jewish.”

“I guess that’s possible.”