Fatal Reaction (31 page)

CHAPTER 88

The ambulance backed up to County Memorial’s emergency room entrance, and Ana, feeling more or less her old self again, banged on the door to be let out.

“Give me a minute, would you? You are the worst patient ever.” Ethan smiled, but Ana could tell he wasn’t kidding.

Mike stepped down and held out his hand.

Ana took it, still a bit unsteady.

Ethan struggled to unfold a locked-up wheelchair parked in the ER’s vestibule.

“Those things always stick,” Ana said. “And no way am I being pushed around like an invalid.”

Ethan let out a frustrated growl and chased after her. “Wait up, would you?”

Mike led Ana to the check-in desk. “I appreciate everything, Ethan. I have her from here.”

Ethan started to argue, but Mike wouldn’t have it. “She’s fine. Go.” His no-nonsense tone made the soft suggestion seem anything but optional.

Ana flashed Ethan a strained smile, listening to the building commotion behind the admission window. “I’ll call you when I’m home.”

A heavy-set woman wearing pink flowered scrubs with a stethoscope around her neck waved for Ana and Mike to come around back. “We have a room set up for you.”

The woman handed Ana a gown for her to change into.

Julian, whom Mike had called en route, waited by the door.

Julian handed him a paper bag, which Mike promptly handed to Ana. “I’ll take her statement when she’s ready.” He spoke as though Ana were invisible, an off-putting but sensible move, considering the circumstances.

Mike was too close to the case, and everyone knew it.

Julian was only observing protocol.

Ana pulled the curtain for privacy, changed into the gown, and bagged her clothes as evidence. She stumbled when she took off her socks and grabbed the railing to keep from falling.

“Are you all right in there?” Mike said.

A pain shot up Ana’s big toe, the one she had caught on a bed wheel, and she took a deep breath before answering. “I’m fine. Stubbed my toe is all.” She settled in on the bed and reached for a blanket. “You can come in.”

Mike parted the privacy drape but stopped before walking through it.

A woman frantically shouted Jared’s name.

Mike let the curtain fall shut. “You shouldn’t have come here.”

Jared’s shoes appeared under the curtain next to Mike’s.

Ana ran her fingers through her hair and licked her dry lips.

“Dr. Monroe, we’ve been trying to reach you,” the woman said.

“Where’s Ana?” Jared asked.

“This isn’t the time or place, Jared. You shouldn’t be here.”

“Dr. Monroe, we’ve been calling you all day. It’s your wife. She’s asking for you.”

Wife
.

Even if Ana hadn’t been eavesdropping, the three were close enough that she’d have heard their whole conversation.

“I am dealing with an emergency.”

“Yeah, but—”

“I’ll go to her room when I’m finished.”

“But—”

“Go.”

The woman walked away, and Jared spoke softly to Mike. “I know you think you’re protecting Ana, but she doesn’t need protecting from me. I want to be in there with her.”

“With her? When everyone here knows you, and your
wife
? The last thing Ana needs is negative attention. It’s not my place to comment on whatever you two started, but it’s messy, and this isn’t the place to straighten things out.”

Ana sighed.

Mike was right.

Her heart broke at the idea of Jared at Colby’s bedside, but it wasn’t right to be jealous. She had no place in their lives, and Jared had no right dragging her into them. The line between friend and more had blurred. Their situation defied logic, and if she was being honest, she didn’t see a way out of it.

The curtain opened, and Mike walked in, his expression disapproving. “I’m sorry,” he said. “You deserve better.”

The doctor arrived to examine her before she could argue.

CHAPTER 89

Three uniformed officers ate burgers and chicken wings at a corner table of the Barfly Tavern, a pitcher of soda between them. Mike nodded in their direction and headed for Anthony, who was sitting, head down, at the bar.

The day had taken too many turns to count, running into Anthony another in a long line of coincidences.

“Nestor, a Sam Adams, please, and one of whatever Anthony’s drinking.” Mike hung his jacket over the back of the bar-high chair next to Anthony’s. He slipped the wallet from his back pocket and set it next to his keys, which Dorian had returned along with his truck. Mike had strong feelings about both him and Jared Monroe, but right now, he needed to forget both of them.

Nestor set a frosted mug of beer in front of Mike and turned to Anthony. “Another Jack and Coke?”

“Just a Coke this round, thanks.” Anthony spun a worn band around his left ring finger.

“You okay?” Mike said.

Anthony kept his eyes on the television running behind the bar. “I was a shitty husband, Mike.”

Mike, knowing it wasn’t entirely true, shook his head. “Sydney wouldn’t have agreed, not overall.”

“I hope that’s true. I heard what happened to Ana. Is she all right?”

“I just brought her home from the hospital. She’s tired, but she’s going to be fine. She wants some alone time. After all she’s been through, I can’t blame her.”

“And you arrested another suspect?”

“Word travels fast.” Mike, uncomfortable with discussing the case, nodded and changed the subject. “I don’t mean to pry, but what’s with the ring?”

Anthony stared at the worn platinum band, and his eyes filled with tears. “I missed her today, is all. I found this in a box while I was unpacking and”—he shrugged—“I don’t know, I just wanted to wear it.”

“Unpacking?”

“I got a place over by the firehouse, a three-bedroom brownstone with a lease-to-own option. Figured it’s time, right?”

“Misty’s probably got a nursery set up already, huh?” Mike hated the idea that Anthony’s mistress was having his child, but he could see that Anthony needed support, not criticism.

“No. No nursery. No baby, either.” He went back to spinning the ring, his eyes fixed in a ninety-mile stare across the bar. “The day Sydney died, Misty was spotting, remember me telling you?” Mike nodded. “Doctors didn’t think much of it at the time, said the baby seemed healthy, but it was so early, you know? She miscarried a couple of days later. I tried thinking of a reason to stay, but I kept coming back to the trapped feeling that had me with her in the first place. If she hadn’t gotten pregnant, I would’ve tried to work things out with Sydney. I mean, I
did
try, but it was too late. The brownstone came at the right time. It belongs to an aunt of one of the guys at the station. She got put in a nursing home a couple months back, so I was able to move right in.”

Mike wasn’t sure if he should be extending condolences or congratulations. “I’m sorry,” he said, sympathy feeling more right.

“Thanks.” Anthony shrugged. “I’m not sure if I am or not. Don’t get me wrong. I’m sad about the baby, devastated, but Misty . . .” He drew a deep breath, then continued. “Things with her weren’t like when I was married. Even the rough patches, those were the best days of my life. I wish I could’ve told Sydney that.”

Regret was a burden Mike was too familiar with. Seeing Anthony’s torture made him reflect on his own life, and on the emptiness of being alone to suit a job that was slowly destroying his faith in humanity. The time had come to fill it. “Excuse me a minute, would you?” He opened his cell phone and dialed Kim’s number.

CHAPTER 90

Emily settled in on the couch, thankful to be home and that the crowd of reporters had been cleared from their front porch. Terri Tate was relentless, and it took three police officers and crowd control to finally put an end to the harassment.

Emily picked up the remote control off the end table and tuned in to the Channel 9 news. A still photo of County Memorial popped up in a window on the upper-right-hand corner of the screen, and a red-and-white banner announced “Breaking News.” She turned up the volume and tucked the remote under her arm where Derrick would be less likely to grab it.

Terri Tate appeared on the screen, her expression artificially somber. A row of landscape lighting cast the hospital in beacons of white.

“This is Terri Tate coming to you live from County Memorial Hospital where CEO Mitchell Altman was arrested earlier today for his role in the scandal that has rocked this once top-seated medical facility. Sources close to the case allege that CEO Altman received over one hundred thousand dollars in exchange for his cooperation with Dr. Dorian Carmichael’s organ-harvesting scam.” A recording of an expensively suited bald man interrupted the broadcast. His hands were cuffed behind his back, and he kept his red face turned away from the cameras. A vein throbbed in his forehead. Another man, an on-staff lawyer according to the scrolling news bar on the bottom of the screen, attempted to cover the camera lens with his hand. The live report resumed. “In related news, Dorian Carmichael, a former person of interest in the murders of Dr. Marco Prusak and of his patient, Sydney Dowling, was released on bail and has since been exonerated of the most serious of charges. His medical license, however, has been revoked indefinitely pending an ongoing investigation. Noreen Pafford, Dr. Carmichael’s nurse, was arrested earlier today and is being held without bail at the women’s correctional facility. Details of the charges against her have not yet been made public. Speculation on the future of County Memorial’s uterine transplant program heralds an uncertain future, though one family has come forward to express its sincerest hopes that the surviving patient, Emily Warren, meets with success.” The feed cut to a prerecorded session between Terri and an older couple filmed earlier that day. “I’m here with Charles and Vivian Harmon, who recently lost their daughter, Janice, to a tragic car accident. I’m terribly sorry for your loss.”

Vivian, a late-fifties, athletic type with an enviable build, wore a tailored navy blue suit and stood next to Charles, a slightly older man with thick, gray hair. “Thank you, Terri. It’s been a difficult time for us.”

“Vivian, you called our station earlier, when you saw footage of Emily Warren, Mayor Warren’s daughter-in-law, being released home. You said you had a message for her.”

“When Dr. Carmichael approached us about the possibility of donating Janice’s uterus, we were reluctant. Janice was a practical woman—beautiful, smart, top of her law school class, and youngest to make partner at her firm—she believed that if she were ever in a position to help someone, she should do it. We were against organ donation of any kind. The thought of someone harvesting parts from your only child . . .” Vivian drew a breath and paused. “It’s gruesome, and I couldn’t help feeling that something was being taken away from her.” Charles set his hand on Vivian’s shoulder. “Janice was the greatest gift of my life. Her smile lit up a room, and I’m proud to call her my daughter. Family is the most important thing. That’s my message to Emily. Janice was so focused on her career that she never married and never had children. I feel like part of Janice is alive somewhere, that part of her can still create life. There’s a barrier around Emily, understandably so given the circumstances and all that’s happened.” She locked her aged, blue eyes with the camera as she delivered her personal message. “Emily, I’ve tried to reach you, and if you’re watching, I want you to know that none of the ugliness of what’s happened applies to you. I can imagine you’re wondering, after what happened with the other patient, who your donor was. Charles and I don’t want you to feel any doubt, or guilt. We wish you luck in creating your own family.”

Emily wiped the tears from her eye as the prerecorded clip returned to a live feed.

Even Terri Tate looked touched. “A heart-wrenching message, for sure, and a hopeful one. Emily, we all wish you the very best. This is Terri Tate signing off from County Memorial Hospital. Thank you and good night.”

“Can I change the channel now?” Derrick reached out for the remote. “I think that’s the closest to good news we’re going to get.”

“The woman’s mother is right. I would’ve felt guilty, wondering if somewhere another woman couldn’t have children because of me. They didn’t have to come forward.”

Derrick leaned over and gave Emily a kiss. “They didn’t have to, but I’m glad they did.”

“Me, too,” she said. “Me, too.”