Sleight of Hand (14 page)

Charlie's course was a little less rocky, but even more perplexing than his brother's had been.  Because of George's history, he was placed on the monitor immediately after birth.  He had apparently thrived until he was four months old.  The day after his four month checkup, when he  received his second set of immunizations, he had a cyanotic spell that required CPR. 

Again the cycle of hospitalization, diagnostic testing and discharge home began.  Again the long list of medications that kept on growing, the failure to gain weight and then weight loss, special formula mixtures and no diagnosis found.

George's downhill decline had been very rapid over the two to three months before his death.  Charlie's course seemed more of a roller coaster ride.  Devastating setbacks followed by spectacular improvements.  

Improvements which, according to the nursing and social work notes, seemed wholly the product of Virginia Ulrich's dedication and untiring devotion to Charlie, rather than to any miracle of modern medicine.  No wonder the nurses were so protective of Virginia.

Sterling's notes seemed to indicate that he had reached the conclusion that the affliction both Charlie and his brother endured was genetic in origin.  He counseled against further pregnancies and Cassie was surprised to see in one clinic note an undercurrent of anger as he wrote that Virginia was pregnant again.  

Charlie was hospitalized afterwards for unrelenting vomiting and dehydration.  Even in the hospital he continued to have problems and exploratory surgery was done to look for a malrotation of his intestines.

She read the nursing notes from after the surgery.  The surgeon had found no abnormalities but had removed his appendix anyway.  Charlie had an uneventful recovery.  They were able to feed him once more and weaned him from his medications.  But Cassie noted that the nurses commented that his mother was not present for the week after Charlie's surgery.  A social work note explained why.   Mrs. Ulrich had suffered a miscarriage.

Charlie continued to improve and was able to go home.  At his next clinic visit, Sterling's tone was optimistic, and he commented that Mr. Ulrich was planning to undergo a vasectomy. 

Obviously  not soon enough, given Virginia Ulrich's current advanced state of pregnancy.  And, if Cassie was right, until another child replaced him, Charlie remained valuable to his mother.   Her hands tightened into fists and she rolled her shoulders to try to ease the tension there.  Even for a cynic like her, it felt unnatural to be thinking these thoughts about a mother.

She closed the chart.  Still nothing that gave her any proof, but now it was more critical than ever that she do something to protect Charlie.  But what?

She was returning the chart to the nurses' station when she turned the corner and almost ran over Virginia Ulrich.  Cassie fumbled for words, trying to keep her expression neutral.

"Dr. Hart."  Virginia looked at the chart in Cassie's hands.  "What are you doing with Charlie's old records?"

"I came up to see how he was doing," Cassie said, returning the chart to its rightful place.  "I was sorry to hear that he had another seizure."

Virgina pursed her lips and stared at Cassie.  "Dr. Sterling is on his way.  I'm certain he'll get to the bottom of all this.  Have you read any of his work?"

"No, I haven't."

"Well, he's the expert in this field," Virginia continued, dismissing any skills that Cassie may have.  "He left some copies of his articles.  Here."  She rounded the nurses' desk with an air of familiarity and superiority, as if this was her rightful place, took a stack of reprinted journal articles from an empty slot in the chart rack and thrust them at Cassie.  "Maybe you'll find them enlightening."

"Thanks," Cassie mumbled, still amazed by the woman's audacity.  The chart rack and nurses' station were strictly off limits to non-medical personnel.  Cassie picked up Antwan Washington's chart.  "Guess I'd better check on my other patient up here."  She tried to sound casual.

"I appreciate your interest in Charlie's case," Virginia went on.  "I understand that he holds some fascination as a diagnostic dilemma, but in the future please direct your questions to Dr. Sterling instead of going through confidential medical records."  Her tone had hardened and Cassie looked up, surprised.   "I'm sure you agree that you are the last person who should be treating my son.  Given my relationship with your ex-husband, I'm sure it is difficult for you to remain objective, isn't it, Dr. Hart?"

"I don't have any idea what you're talking about."

"Richard is a very close friend of mine.  My husband works with his brother.  I'm sure you can appreciate how dismayed they were when they heard you were involved in Charlie's case.  Richard's brother went so far as to suggest that we have Dr. Sterling ban you from further contact with Charlie, said you were unstable, might even try to harm Charlie."

Cassie felt her face flush with anger.  "How dare you.  I would never–"

"Exactly what I told him.  That you would never allow your personal emotions interfere with the care of a patient.  I told him it wasn't your fault that you couldn't start a simple IV in Charlie, that you had to resort to a painful and potentially dangerous procedure."

"His veins were collapsed, the seizure–"

"Of course it was your first day back," Virginia continued, ignoring Cassie's protests.  "You were rusty after taking all that time off.  I'm sure it had nothing to do with who I am or the fact that I'm a friend of Richard's."  

"Richard has nothing to do with me any longer.  I don't care who his friends are."  Cassie's voice emerged louder than she intended, drawing stares from several nurses nearby.

"I guess that explains why you never visited him while he was in the ICU, fighting for his life.  After you put him there."

Cassie straightened to her full height, engaging Virginia head on.  Virginia's face was placid, her voice low and steady as if she were discussing the latest summer fashion trends.  Cassie's fists tightened and she rammed them into the pockets of her lab coat.  "I didn't give Richard those drugs, he took them by accident.  They were intended to kill me.  And the reason I didn't visit him was because his brother forbid it.  All of which has absolutely nothing to do with how I treated your son, Mrs. Ulrich.  I treated Charlie with the same dedication and care I give to any of my patients."

Virginia smiled placidly at her as one of the nurses approached.  "I guess that explains why there's another little boy in a coma, fighting for his life.  Your track record speaks for itself, Dr. Hart."

"Can I get you anything, Virginia?" the nurse asked before Cassie could answer.

"Oh, no thanks, Gail.  I was just wondering if Dr. Sterling would be here soon."

"He said he'd be right in.  I'm getting coffee if you want any."

Cassie took the opportunity to escape before her temper got the better of her, opening Antwan's chart and turning her back on the two of them.  Her hands shook with anger. She had to fight to keep the words before her in focus.  It was even harder to silence the nagging voice in her mind that Virginia had spoken the truth, that she was to blame for missing something on Monday when she first cared for Antwan.

And if she missed something then, what else had she messed up?

She swallowed hard and stilled her trembling hands.  Scanning Antwan's chart, she hoped to find that he had made some progress since she saw him two hours ago.  There was nothing substantial, she noted with a frown.  They had almost weaned him from the ventilator, but he was still unconscious.  The neurologists planned to repeat the EEG in the morning.

She went over to his cubicle.  Tammy Washington was on the phone, talking angrily to someone, but hung up when she saw Cassie.

"Hi, I just wanted to see how everything's going," Cassie said, moving to Antwan's side.

"How do you think?" Tammy demanded.  "I can't believe you're here, showing your face!  They're trying to take my baby from me!"  The mother's anger hit Cassie like a gale force blast.

"I tried to–"

"I don't care what you tried," Tammy interrupted.  "This is my baby.  I ain't got anyone to help me, but I've raised him the best I can.  I don't need the likes of you coming around and telling me I done it all wrong!"

"Tammy," Cassie tried to calm her.  "I'm certain that they only want what's best for Antwan, just like you do."

"Like hell they do!  Is it best for my baby that he go and live with strangers?  You know who that was on the phone?  My work saying don't bother to come back!  I never took nothing from nobody my whole life and now thanks to you–" she seemed to run out of words as her rage crescendoed.  She stood and pushed Cassie's hand away from Antwan. 

"I'm sorry.  If there's anything I can do–"

"Ain't you done enough?  Just get out, I don't want you anywhere near my baby!  You all can just go to hell!"  She was crying now.

Cassie left, the mother's anger a tsunami sweeping her from the room.  She turned to leave the PICU, but not before she saw Virginia Ulrich smiling at her.

Out in the corridor, she added Sterling's journal articles to the stack of notes bulging out of her lab coat pockets.  She lowered her head and headed down the hall to the stairwell, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone.

Better work on your bedside manner
, the cynic in her whispered.  Cassie felt awful about Tammy Washington.  This was just what she'd been trying to avoid.  The woman had a terrific strength and a lot of pride.  Take that away and what resources would she have left to help her son through this?

And somehow she was certain Virginia wouldn't let things rest.  She had the feeling Charlie's mother had read her intentions and suspicions and would be making her life hell unless she backed off.

She returned to her office and found the number for Children and Youth. Too bad Virginia Ulrich didn't know her better.   Then she'd know that being a pigheaded, stubborn, hyper-driven, pain in the ass was Cassie's most endearing quality.  One of the few things that Cassie surpassed even her grandmother, Rosa, in.  And it had nothing to do with the Ulrichs being friends with Richard.  Well, maybe it did–but only in the sense that she refused to let Richard or his powerful family and friends intimidate her.

"Childline, how may I help you?"

"I'd like to report a suspected case of abuse."

CHAPTER 12

"Pardon my French, but you look like shit," Jimmy Dolan told his partner when Drake dragged himself through the doorway at the top of the steps the next morning.  The Major Crimes Squad's office was on the fourth floor, and Drake looked like he'd felt every one of those steps.  It didn't help that he was hauling about twelve pounds worth of murder books.

Jimmy handed his partner a cup of fresh coffee and gestured to the bag of Krispy Kremes on his desk.  To hell with stereotypes.  Ever since his wife, Denise, had banned donuts and other "junk food" from their home, calling them a Madison Avenue conspiracy to cripple the nation, work was his only chance to indulge.  

"Hope you look so ragged out because you got some make up sex last night," Jimmy went on.  Everyone in the House had heard about Hart and Morris–and Drake's reaction in the ER.  

Personally, Jimmy liked Hart's style.  The girl had guts even if she did sometimes lack finesse.  Had to admit, she'd gotten the job done without bloodshed.  He wouldn't necessarily have trusted Spanos to do the same–but his opinion was definitely in the minority.  Last thing the cops needed was the civilian populace to start trying to do their job for them.

Drake hung his head low and didn't answer.  So, still fighting with Hart.  Which meant no tales of bedroom calisthenics.  He sighed.  Denise would be upset to hear that Drake was having relationship problems.  Again.  And she'd somehow manage to blame it on Jimmy.  God forbid Drake ever take responsibility for his own actions.

Jimmy munched on a honey-glazed still warm from the ovens.  Drake was almost thirty-five but every woman Jimmy'd ever seen him with seemed to either want to baby him or fuck him.  Or both.

Except Hart.  Which was probably why Jimmy liked the doctor so much–she seemed the perfect match for his wayward partner.  Even if Denise didn't approve of her.  Not after Hart almost got Drake killed six weeks ago.

But Denise probably would never accept any woman as being good enough for Drake.

"I thought we'd start with Regina Eades' husband and son," Jimmy said.  

Drake nodded, his eyes brightening somewhat after the coffee.  "I already set us up for nine o'clock.  I ran everyone last night when the computer was free," he explained when Jimmy looked at him in surprise.  He pulled a sheet of paper from his notebook and slid it across the desk.  "Here are the current addresses. The Kents are divorced, I could only find the wife.   The Frantzs are still in the same house over on the Northside, and the Clearys moved to Plum."

Jimmy nodded in satisfaction.  One thing about DJ–once he was on board, he put his heart and soul into closing a case.  A lot like his dad that way.  "Nice work.  Let's roll." 

<><><>

Clinton Eades had moved from the city proper to an upscale neighborhood just outside of Murrysville.  Once they passed the brick arch guarding the entrance of the development, the streets became meandering narrow lanes that threatened to curve back on themselves.  They crossed Bear Meadow Lane, turned off Deer Leap onto Fox Hollow Road and finally made their way to Possum Path.  

The houses were large monstrosities of brick and stone placed on too-small lots with manicured squares of lawns.  Despite the size of the houses, it seemed as if children were as extinct as the wildlife in this suburban oasis.  There were no sidewalks, no evidence of bikes, trikes, or toys and none of the chalk graffiti that littered Jimmy's neighborhood.

He found the Eades house and pulled the white Intrepid into the driveway.  As he closed the driver's door and waited for Drake, he saw that theirs was the only car exposed to the light of day.