Critical Judgment (1996) (32 page)

Correspondence B was more of the same—a letter to a restaurant that had once improperly prepared his medallions of veal; a letter to the owner of the house they were renting, complaining about the poor quality of the construction. Then, suddenly, she noticed a file with her name on it. The date the file had last been worked on was just five days ago. It consisted of a single paragraph.

Abby stared at the names. She knew them all. Steve Bricker was Josh’s immediate supervisor at Seradyne and had once been his friend. Nancy Golden was a colleague in Josh’s lab. When the personnel cuts were made, Josh had been convinced that Nancy was kept, even though her work was inferior to his, because of an extracurricular relationship she had with Pete Gentry, the head of the research-and-development section. Alan Forrester was the president of the company.

For the year after his termination from Seradyne, Josh had handled the whole business philosophically, with his typical wry humor. But now his insanity-fueled hatred, almost certainly a manifestation of cadmium toxicity, had marked these four Seradyne employees for death.

Abby had no idea where Josh was. But now, at least, she knew where he was headed. Suddenly her fatigue was gone. She printed out a copy of the letter, hurried from the house, and sped to Lew’s farm, praying all the way that Josh had not yet acted on his plan.

The short drive seemed interminable. Lew’s Blazer was parked by the split-rail fence. As she skidded to a stop on the dirt-and-gravel drive, Abby honked the horn to give him some warning she was there. There was no need. He was approaching the Mazda’s door as she was opening it.

“I heard you spin into the driveway down at the bottom of the hill,” he said. “I’m so attuned to the quiet up here, sometimes I can tell when one of the cows isn’t breathing right. What’s happening?”

Abby jumped out, kissed him lightly on the lips, and handed him the letter.

“I got this out of Josh’s computer,” she said, heading toward the house. “Those four people all worked with him at the lab in Fremont. I’ve got to call and warn them.”

Fremont was located on the Oakland side of the bay,
about two-thirds of the way to San Jose. Abby had no problem reaching the Seradyne operator.

“Steve Bricker, please,” she said.

She held her breath, half expecting a pregnant pause as the operator debated whether and how to tell her that Steve Bricker was dead.

“This is Steve Bricker.”

“Thank God,” Abby whispered. “Steve, this is Dr. Abby Dolan. Do you remember me?”

“Josh Wyler’s Abby?”

“That’s right.”

“Is he okay?”

“Well, actually, he’s not.”

Abby imagined the man, sitting in stunned disbelief, as she reviewed the evidence that Josh was psychotic from heavy-metal poisoning and was headed toward Seradyne, intent on exacting vengeance.

“Abby, I find this all a little hard to accept. Josh was always such an easygoing guy. I know he was upset about the cutbacks and reorganization here, but, hey, I thought the severance package he got was pretty fair.”

Abby had met Steve Bricker only once and remembered him as being very much taken with himself. Now, after just a brief conversation, she knew why she hadn’t much liked him. The man had all the sensitivity of a football.

“Josh didn’t want a severance package, Steve. He wanted his job. Things haven’t worked out too well up here, and right or wrong, he blames you.”

“That’s crazy.”

“That’s exactly the point, Steve. Josh needs help badly. If we can find him, there’s a decent treatment to remove the cadmium from his system.”

“Well, for his sake he’d better not try anything. I have a permit and a gun, and I damn well know how to use it.”

Abby groaned. This was precisely what she didn’t
want to have happen—a macho man ready to defend his turf. Shoot first, ask questions later.

“Steve, I’ll call the others. I don’t want Josh to get hurt.”

“As long as he doesn’t try anything, he won’t be. Alan Forrester’s on vacation. Nancy Golden’s right down the hall. So’s Gentry. I can talk with them. I’ll talk with security also. Maybe they’ll put someone extra on. Not that we need it. Place is tight as a drum.”

“Steve, whatever happens, please try not to let him get hurt. That’s the least you can do.”

Bricker refused to back down.

“If it looks like he’s going to hurt me or any of the others, I can tell you this—he’ll be the one to get hurt first. That’s the way it is. You know, back when they were making the cuts, I actually tried to talk Forrester into keeping him. Now look what I get for it.”

Abby sighed and set the receiver down. She could try to explain more about Josh’s condition, but Steve Bricker would never understand. She would call the Fremont police and then, just in case, Josh’s brother in LA. There was no sense in worrying his mother, who was already frantic from Abby’s last call. After that there wasn’t much she could think of to do.

“How’d it go?”

Lew sat down across the table from her, his eyes full of concern.

“Bricker’s cleaning out his revolver. Looking forward to the gunfight at the O.K. Corral,” she said.

“Just what you needed.”

Lew came around the table and massaged her shoulders and temples.

“Oh, that feels wonderful.”

Abby allowed her eyes to close for just a minute. He buried his face in her hair and pressed his lips against her.

“We’ll find him,” he whispered.

“Thank you, Lew. I don’t know what I’d do if you
didn’t understand about Josh. Were you able to reach the prison hospital?”

“I did. The stupid doctor at Las Rosas wouldn’t confirm or deny that Willie Cardoza was a patient there. I told him what he needed to do, and I think he understood me, but I’m not sure. Maybe you could get in touch with Willie’s girlfriend. She has to know for certain where he was sent.”

“Good idea. What about Barbara Torres and the pharmacist—what’s his name?”

“Gil Brant. I’ll call them and set up a meeting to bring them up to speed. But, frankly, Abby, I think they’re both cardboard warriors. It’s one thing to attend meetings. It’s quite another to put your position in town on the line by bucking the establishment. That’s why Dave Brooks was so valuable. He was absolutely relentless—fearless. You’ve got a lot of his qualities.”

“Nonsense. I’m thinking more and more about just pulling up stakes and getting out.”

“You can’t do that, Abby! Not when we’re so close to breaking this whole thing wide-open.”

“We’re not that close, and you know it. We have a positive blood test, and after the O.J. trial, you know how much that means. Plus we have eye findings that suggest some people are cadmium toxic. But we still have no idea how it could have happened. And I don’t think Colstar is just going to roll over and hand us evidence of what they did. In fact, I’ve been thinking that we may be putting Angela Cristoforo and Willie Cardoza in danger just by getting the word out that they’re cadmium toxic. Besides, Lew, no matter how hard I try, I still don’t feel as if this is my town or my fight. I’ve been staying involved because of Willie and Josh. Now one of them’s going to be taken care of, and hopefully the other one will be, too. Colstar influences everything and everyone around here.”

“I know they’re powerful, but—”

“Lew, they’ve manufactured evidence that I’m responsible
for Peggy Wheaton’s death. If I don’t resign, they’re going to make it public.”

Lew listened in agonized silence as she filled him in on her meeting with Joe Henderson.

“Damn them,” was all he could say. “Damn them to hell.” He knelt beside her. “I’m so sorry, Abby. I’m so sorry they’ve done this to you. But we still need you. I need you.”

He drew her lips close to his. His arms tightened about her as his lips parted. His tongue and his gentle hands became more searching. Abby found herself wondering what it would be like to lie naked next to him, to feel him on top of her, inside her.

“Lew, please,” she managed, pulling away. “I love having you touch me. I love being with you. But I’m just too distracted. Right now I’ve got to follow through with finding Josh.”

“Sorry. You’re right. It’s not the time.”

“Don’t be sorry. When it happens between us, I want to be a hundred percent there.”

She kissed him again, quickly, then picked up the phone.

“Who now?”

“The Fremont police, then maybe Josh’s brother in LA. And then I thought I might call Kelly Franklin again.”

“Don’t you think that’s risky? I mean, you said yourself that Colstar might try to eliminate the toxic patients.”

“Colstar, maybe, but not Kelly. I just don’t believe she has that in her.”

“That’s where you and I differ,” Lew said. “She’s a snake, just like the rest of them.”

“You’ll just have to call it my woman’s intuition and bear with me.”

As she had expected, Abby got little encouragement from the Fremont police or from Josh’s vapid, money-conscious
sister-in-law. The conversation with Kelly Franklin didn’t start out much better.

“How certain are you about this Cardoza’s blood work?” Kelly asked.

“Very certain. The woman who ran the test is one of the foremost toxicologists in the country.”

“I just don’t believe it. I’ve been over every inch of this company and the way we handle toxic substances. Dozens of times. I just don’t see any way this could have happened.”

“The exposure may be widespread,” Abby added. “I have over a hundred fifty patients on a printout who’ve had strange, ill-defined symptoms that are quite consistent with cadmium toxicity.”

“Those are the ones you mentioned with the excess MRI tests?”

“Exactly.”

“But I don’t see the connection.”

“Neither do I. At least not yet. But I’m fairly certain there is one. The cadmium levels are no coincidence, and neither are all the MRIs.”

“What do you want me to do about it?”

“Kelly, I don’t know. It looks like Colstar is making people sick—very sick in some cases. What are you
supposed
to do about it?”

“You know, this is crazy. You have one positive blood test in a man who once worked for us, and some sort of rings in the eyes of a lady who’s probably on multiple powerful psychiatric medications, and you want me to close down the company! I’ll look into things, Abby, but I need much more than what you’ve given me to take any action at all.”

“Just do me one favor, then.”

“What?”

“If you’re not going to take any action, please don’t share this discussion yet with Lyle Quinn. I don’t trust him.”

“Abby, I don’t think I can promise that.”

“Please? Just for a day. Twenty-four hours.”

“I’ll consider it. But no promises.”

“Thank you.”

“And Abby—”

“Yes.”

“I really don’t think Lyle is all that bad. If you look past the posing and the theatrics, he’s not nearly as hard as he wants everyone to believe.”

“If that’s true, he’s sure got me fooled,” Abby said.

She set the receiver down.

“What did she say?” Lew asked.

“Just about what you’d expect. At least I’ve got her thinking. Lew, I’m going to take a rain check on lunch. I want to stop by the hospital and speak with the patient who had the bad reaction in the MRI tube. Then I want to shower off this all-nighter grunge and crash for a few hours.”

She could see his disappointment.

“Listen, whatever you say. I’m better at dinner than lunch anyway. When you wake up, you’re bound to be hungry.”

“Dinner sounds great. I’ll call you as soon as I get up. If you don’t hear from me by five, feel free to call.”

“Perfect. If our cause can’t get you to stay around, maybe my salmon poached in brown ale can.”

“Lew, come on.”

“Just kidding. I know you’ll do whatever you need to do.”

Abby pulled him to his feet and kissed him on the mouth.

“I love that you understand that,” she whispered.

A
bby had no desire to run into Joe Henderson at this point, but she did want to speak with Claire Buchanan again. And if Claire’s allergic reaction continued to respond rapidly to treatment, she might be discharged as soon as tomorrow morning.

Abby rationalized to herself that she wanted to check on the woman’s condition and wish her well. Together they had faced death and won a reprieve. But she knew that was only part of the story. Something about the MRI tests was still gnawing at her—something that might become clear by going over Claire’s story one more time. And Abby knew that with her own decision to leave Patience all but made, there would probably not be another chance.

What she had told Lew was true. She had been willing to stay at the hospital and in the town until Willie Cardoza was properly diagnosed and treated. She owed the same to Josh. But now there was nothing for her to gain by staying, and much to lose. She had underestimated the resolve and resourcefulness of Colstar and, in particular, of Lyle Quinn. The struggle to expose the truth about Colstar might continue, but in the end, she suspected, the Alliance would lose. And if she chose to
remain and fight beside them, she would almost certainly become a casualty. Joe Henderson held all the cards—evidence that her critical judgment was impaired, and a community that had already joined ranks against her. She was history at PRH. Nothing could change that now. But a malpractice suit holding her responsible for Peggy Wheaton’s wrongful death could tie her up indefinitely and jeopardize her ability to find another ER job, maybe kill it altogether.