Silent Fear, a Medical Mystery (13 page)

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Authors: Barbara Ebel

Tags: #fiction, #medical mystery, #medical suspense, #suspense

BOOK: Silent Fear, a Medical Mystery
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“By the way,” Danny asked, “did you both have a good weekend?”

“Better than yours,” Bruce said.

Matthew gazed out the window past Danny. “Couldn’t have been better, but I regret not helping you out, Danny.”

Danny scurried out, leaving his cell phone and Harold’s parents’ information on his desk, while Cheryl tailed him.

“It’s terrible about Dr. Jackowitz,” she said. “I just can’t believe it.”

“I know,” Danny said. “There are some other folks sick, too, and a nurse just passed away.” He turned to face her, taking a chart from her hands. “First patient Wanda Robinson. Is her MRI result back?”

“Up on the computer,” Cheryl said. She darted off while Danny woke his computer and scrolled though the images and then went into the first patient room.

“Hello, Mrs. Robinson,” he said.

“Look who I brought,” she said, her baby in her arms. “I had to bring her, because after your appointment I have to bring her upstairs to the pediatrician’s office for a well baby check. I have an excellent baby doctor for Carol.”

“That’s wonderful.” Danny admired the infant and noted that Wanda looked less drained than the preceding week. “I have good news for you. Your MRI shows no growth abnormalities with your pituitary gland. From a neurosurgeon’s perspective, you’re in the clear.”

“Oh doctor, that’s great. It’s about time I received good news.”

“And it’s about time I gave some. I will send a report to your endocrinologist. I take it she is giving you appropriate replacement therapy?”

“Yes, she is. And I’m feeling a bit better. My Sheehan’s syndrome is going to be a thing of the past.” She broke into a smile. Danny thought there’s nothing like the happiness of a new mother, even if she’s sick.

----------

The small hand on the clock over the front office desk pointed past 6 p.m. The last patient had left and Bruce stood at the front counter. An evening news channel covered the day’s events in the waiting room as the staff began filing the last charts and packing up for the day. Cheryl stopped next to Bruce as the anchorman switched stories to Nashville’s biggest story.

“You’re on,” Bruce said towards the back of the hallway as Danny and Matthew came single file towards him. The four of them went into the waiting room as the rest of the staff also watched.

“There have been major developments the last two days at Nashville’s University Hospital of a neurological illness which claimed the life yesterday of a local neurosurgeon named Harold Jackowitz. Today an operating room nurse, Dotty Jackson, also died from the same disease. We take you now to a conference held today at the hospital with Robert Madden, the hospital’s CEO, Dr. Ralph Halbrow from the Center for Disease Control and other local specialists.”

Coverage then skipped to the morning’s press coverage which was scarcely shortened. Underneath Robert’s and the physicians’ comments, their names and titles streamed across the screen like live S&P numbers.

Bruce unfolded his arms and shut the television off when the entire story ended. “Nice job, Danny. However, I hope it’s not perceived by the public as a cause and effect between a doctor or a patient of The Middle Tennessee Neurosurgical Group and the outbreak of this meningoencephalitis.”

 

Chapter 11

 

Rachel got up before Leo and padded to the bathroom. It was Tuesday morning and she had finally confronted her denial the night before. Although she didn’t have first-hand knowledge about child abuse, she believed her daughter’s strange marks and behavior came from Leo’s hands. Two different times after he had taken care of her in Rachel’s absence, he told her that he had accidentally spilled a hot liquid, scalding the poor baby’s tender skin.

She admired her complexion in the mirror, washed her face, and applied moisturizer. She slipped on jogging pants and a top. When she came out, Leo was getting up, scratching his bare chest. He turned his head. “What’s your rush this morning?”

“I thought I’d make you real coffee on your way out instead of that instant stuff. But I’m going to take care of Julia, put her in the carriage, and get some fresh air.”

Slowly he made his way past her. “Too bad, we could have had a roll since you were up this early.” He eyed her, almost suspiciously, and put his hand into her hair and rubbed her scalp. It was one of the things he did to her that took her mind straight to the moment, dismissing any negative feelings she had developed for him. He let go after a long minute, gave her a once over and said, “You look good enough to eat. Don’t get kidnapped on that walk.”

Rachel left the room as Leo disappeared into the bathroom. She put on a large pot of coffee and as the water dripped, she realized how charming he could be when he wanted. An operator, that’s what he was - an operator. His craft of schmoozing her finely tuned. But the time neared for her to no longer put up with his cyclical behavior and to put an end to whatever he was doing to Julia.

Rachel went into Julia’s room to dress her. She only had three more days before handing her over to Danny Friday night and needed to monitor her like a hawk. She couldn’t take chances that new signs of physical abuse appear making Danny skeptical about Julia’s care.

Rachel had thought about it at length the night before, the hours after dinner dragging on like they would never end, even when Leo had been grinding her hard. She had tried to fend off his advances by hinting she wasn’t in the mood, but that seemed to egg him on more. As she stared at the ceiling and then into her pillow cover, her daughter’s strange skin patches and recent frightened expressions plagued her.

That’s when it had really hit her, the scary part. Barring her paternity case attorney, Phil Beckett, she’d never directly been involved with the legal system before. She’d done lots of shady things but never serious enough that someone pointed her out to the police. She even remembered Casey Hamilton threatening her with that before Julia was born.

Rachel slid out her daughter’s diaper, put on a bit of salve and powder, and carefully put on a new pink sun dress. She picked her up, patted her back all the way into the kitchen, and slid her into the high chair. Leo still hadn’t appeared. She put Julia’s bottle on the tray and eased small spoonfuls of applesauce into her mouth.

She went back to her thoughts as Julia finished her food then took to her bottle. What if, just what if, someone babysitting Julia put two and two together and suspected some kind of child abuse? Since she was suspicious herself, it seemed highly likely. Her heart thumped in her chest. Anyone would point a finger at her. Weren’t child abuse laws really stiff? Or was it like the rest of the criminal justice system where a person with a good lawyer could practically get away with murder and be walking on the streets?

Rachel looked toward the bedroom and decided to beat Leo out the door. She poked her head in as he sat on the bed tying a shoe. “I’ll see you later tonight. I’m going for a walk with Julia in her carriage.”

After lacing tightly, Leo rose and glanced at his watch. “That’s a long way off, babe. How about a romantic dinner tonight?”

“They’re all romantic.” She flashed a smile. “Maybe. You wore me out last night. How about a dinner-only night and you’ve got a date?”

“You can’t put restrictions on spur of the moment romance.” Leo silently laughed at her naivety.
Nothing that drugs can’t handle
, he thought. But he’d play her game. He was probably overdue for some internet porn anyway. “I’ll wine and dine you at Maxine’s and maybe work out downstairs afterwards. Have a good walk and fend off any admirers.”

Underneath the mounted buck’s head at the front door, Rachel put a matching pink bonnet on Julia and slid her into the stroller. A little fresh air may help clarify her thoughts. The carriage bumped down the front steps and neared the street. Rachel gazed above and all around at the trees lining the residential properties. The sun sat low, not a cloud lingered above, and a mild breeze made it perfect to be outdoors.

She focused again at the path and the carriage and figured abuse inflicted on minors or babies must run the gamut, just like the penalties. On the one end, perhaps the legal system imposed fines. In some instances maybe it was considered a misdemeanor. But things could go far beyond that. What if it became some kind of record and affected a person’s ability for employment? Her pulse quickened and she perspired easily. What if Julia’s symptoms warranted a felony or even incarceration for the abuser? Now she really sweated.

Rachel didn’t like her conclusion – living with Leo was dicey in a thrilling way, but it had turned too perilous. The risks now soared over the benefits. Her relationship with Leo, her cushy life style with him, had to come to a screeching halt.

She made a right turn at the end of the lengthy block. Rather than waiting for a car to pass, by turning, she kept the momentum going. Good for her streaming thoughts. Perhaps she could turn Julia over to Danny Friday night and be ready to move out. She believed she could swing it - go to work on Saturday and then not return to Leo’s place. But there must be more. He was inconveniencing her, not to mention that he had put her daughter in harm’s way. Payback is a bitch. And she’d figure it out.

----------

Tuesday morning in the OR, Danny stood over an exposed brain. He stepped back and forth to the images on the X-ray view box. Two cancer metastases stemming from the patient’s lungs had to be removed. He grimaced, knowing the palliative surgery would just buy the long-term smoker a few months, at best. When he finished and left the room, the anesthesiologist was in full control.

Turn-over time between cases would take a bit, so Danny hustled to see his next patient in the pre-op holding area, and then wanted to run over to Joelle’s lab to discuss her progress. He spotted his next patient, a middle-aged, early graying woman on a stretcher and introduced himself. “I’m Dr. Tilson. I’m glad you’re letting our group do your back surgery. I’m sure you would have preferred Dr. Jackowitz.”

“That was a shocker about Dr. Jackowitz, but I did hear all of you are good physicians.” She fumbled with the IV tubing and sat up taller. “I just want to get this over with. Get some relief from this shooting pain down my leg. I’ve gotten a wee-bit shorter, so when the bones and discs get squished enough, there’s no longer enough room for the nerves.”

Danny couldn’t hold in a low, rolling chuckle. “I’ve never heard it put quite that way.” He patted her on the shoulder. “I’ll take good care of you. We’ll probably get started in an hour.”

After donning his white coat and sprinting across the walkways of the main medical campus, he took the elevator up to Joelle’s lab. He donned the hazardous-infectious disease clothing and entered her work area. Besides wearing the same outfit, she had strapped on an eye mask. She was stooped over agar plates, her amber with silver earrings dangling alongside her neckline. “Good morning, Dr. Danny,” she said, scarcely looking his way.

“Good morning as well,” Danny said. “I’m between cases. No better place to get an update on current developments than here.”

“Glad you could join me. See these plates? They’ve been incubated at thirty-seven degrees Centigrade and I check them daily for clearing of the agar.” Her long latex-gloved finger pointed from one to the next.

Danny looked quizzically at her. “These non-nutrient agar plates have been coated with E. Coli,” Joelle said, “and then each of them had a drop of cerebrospinal fluid added from our spinal-tapped meningoencephalitis patients.”

“I wish you could grow our bug out sooner.”

“I hear you. See these other plates?” she asked, pointing, “I’ll microscopically inspect them after several days. Just like your field, I have to take one step at a time. I really enjoy the hunt involved with scientific methods. And how I’d love to get my hands on some Watson and Crick like research where I discover a groundbreaking treatment or antibiotic.”

“Half the problem with that is getting money for a project, which I’m sure you run into.”

“We do. Selling a research idea is a problem, too, and I’m not much of a sales person.”’

Danny nodded and got comfortable on the adjacent steel stool. “Have you heard from Tim about Troy Neal’s results?”

“He’s stopping by the hospital lab to get the results and bringing over a CSF sample to me as well. He should be here any minute.” She carefully picked up a tray and slipped it back into the incubator. “So where on earth do you take an ex-spouse on a date?” She goaded him on with a fun smile. “Do you go to a sports game at your kids’ school? Do you take her for pizza, or a movie, or dinner where you hash out divorce talk? Could it even be a romantic dinner somewhere?”

Danny moved a leg up to a foot beam and laughed. “We actually brought that subject up, where to go, that is. My Mom and Dad owned an upscale Italian restaurant in Nashville for years. We used to go there regularly. That’s where we’re going.”

“Interesting,” Joelle said. “Sounds more like your turf than hers.”

“I don’t mean it to be. She does like it as much as me.”

“Since you’re divorced, I’m assuming you’re not happy about that. If I may say so, rekindle the romance slowly like overseeing my agar plates. Send her flowers or put an arrangement on the table. Men never do that anymore. It’s special and it stands out from the mundane.”

“I can do that. Tomorrow night is the night in question, but a little problem has developed. I must first attend the gathering given by the parents of Dr. Jackowitz so our evening may be delayed.”

“Don’t compromise the timing. Why don’t you bring your ex-wife? She’ll understand. Besides, it will reaffirm, in case she’d forgotten or gotten the wrong impression, that you’re empathetic.”

“That’s the kind of advice my sister, Mary, gives me. Thanks, Joelle. It’s too sad about Harold, and I understand the grief his poor parents must be feeling.” Danny thought about his oldest daughter, Melissa, who had passed away. There wasn’t a day that he didn’t think about her and he guessed it had to be the same for Sara. How could a woman bear a child, have that incomparable bond, and then lose her or him? He knew parents could also lose a child not through death, but for other reasons. What if the unmatchable relationship is severed and a parent must let a child go because they love them so much? Incomprehensibly sad as well.

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