Code 15 (20 page)

“Canfield made note of a bruise on her abdomen under her left rib cage. I saw the same thing when the paramedics brought her in.”

“How can you be so certain it wasn’t there the first time you examined her?”

“Because I checked her belly thoroughly. There were no bruises of any kind on her abdominal wall. I even made a note of it on the chart.”

Ben regarded her intently for a few seconds before asking, “Was there evidence of a sexual assault?”

“None.”

“Since I’m sure you spoke with them, what did security say? Did they think she was robbed?”

“The guard who found her said she was slumped over the steering wheel. He found her purse undisturbed on the backseat.” Morgan checked Ben’s eyes for a reaction. From the look on his face, she suspected he knew where she was headed. “When a woman drives alone, she puts her purse on the seat next to her—not in the back. If her purse was on the backseat, I’d bet anything there was somebody sitting next to her.”

“Every square inch of the hospital’s under video surveillance. Why don’t you ask security to see if there’s anything on their tapes?”

“I thought of that. Unfortunately, the ER lot’s a temporary one. Apart from a golf-cart patrol every couple of hours, there is no other surveillance. The other interesting thing is when they brought her in she wasn’t wearing her knee brace. One of the guards found it hanging over the top of the Dumpster.”

“Maybe she found it uncomfortable.”

“Or maybe she never needed it in the first place,” Morgan said. She then leaned over her tray and said in just above a whisper, “I don’t believe this woman ever fell off a bicycle. I don’t believe she suffered any injury at all that day. I think she was faking the whole thing and had some other reason for coming in that night.”

“For instance.”

Morgan held up both hands. “I don’t have the first damn idea why she would put on a charade like that.”

Ben’s focus changed when he noticed Morgan’s face was the color of chalk. “Are you okay? You look terrible.”

She covered her mouth with her fingers. “I may have spoken too soon about the morning sickness.”

“Do you want to—”

“I’ll be fine in a minute,” she assured him. “This case will definitely have to be reported to the state as a Code Fifteen. As the treating physician, I’m going to be right in the middle of an AHCA investigation.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Ben said. “You have an exemplary record. This woman’s death, while tragic, is an incident, not a pattern.”

She tossed Ben a cautionary look. “I’m not sure AHCA will view things quite as charitably as you are. Canfield’s autopsy report will be an important part of their inquiry. If the state concludes that I missed the diagnosis and negligently discharged Faith Russo from the emergency room, they will consider this case a wrongful and preventable death.” Morgan shook her head slowly. Ben could see she was struggling not to lose her composure. “Faith Russo was a young, healthy woman with three children. There’s no predicting what disciplinary action they could take against me.”

Ben said, “You’re looking at the absolute worst scenario.” The words were barely out of his mouth when Morgan grabbed her tray, pushed her chair back in, and stood up.

“I’ll give you a call later,” she said. “Are we on for dinner?”

“Sure. You pick the place.”

Ben watched her leave the cafeteria. What concerned him the most was that he knew Morgan was right about AHCA. They would almost certainly open an inquiry into the Faith Russo case, and it was equally probable she would fall under intense scrutiny.

Even if Morgan were exonerated, the investigative process alone would be an embarrassing nightmare that would haunt her for months. Trying to cope with such an investigation would be tough enough under normal circumstances—trying to do it in the early part of a pregnancy would be a daunting challenge.

DAY FOURTEEN

 

 

From his wooden deck and under a warm sun, Gideon sat on his white slat-back rocking chair, gazing at his garden.

Absently, he spun his Rubik’s Cube in one hand. Normally, he’d be engrossed in aligning the multicolored squares—a feat he could now do in just under four minutes. His skill level didn’t make him tournament ready, but it was, nevertheless, an impressive achievement that had taken him a year of steady practice to attain.

With each passing day, his fear that Morgan Connolly had figured out how Alison Greene died grew stronger. He was well aware that trying to confirm his suspicions could place him at considerable risk. But after spending many hours contemplating his limited options, he decided an attempt was worth the risk. His plan was well conceived and well rehearsed. Setting the cube down on a small wooden table, he stopped rocking, reached for his cell phone, and tapped in the number of the Cardiac Care Center.

“CCC. This is Jean. May I help you?”

“This is Mr. Tillinghouse in Patient Relations. May I speak with Dana McGinley please?” he asked.

“Please hold.”

Dana, who had been called in at five a.m. on her day off to take care of a young woman suffering from a postpartum blood clot to her lungs, was just finishing up her morning charting when she saw the unit secretary motion for her to pick up the phone. With a puff of exasperation, she put down her laptop and reached for the phone.

“This is Dana.”

“Miss McGinley. My name’s Hugh Tillinghouse. I work in Patient Relations. We’ve recently been asked to look into the Alison Greene case and I was hoping you might be—”

“I was expecting to hear from you.”

“I beg your pardon.”

“I assume you’re calling me because her parents have made a formal complaint about the cross.”

“They expressed some concerns. I’m not sure I’d call it a complaint,” Gideon answered, hoping Dana would take him where he wanted to go. “I’ve spoken to them a couple of times. I told them I would get back to them after speaking with you.”

“I’m a conscientious nurse, Mr. Tillinghouse, but I generally don’t check to see what religion my patient happens to be. I feel terribly about what happened, but I think the parents’ gripe is a little misdirected. They should be talking to Mr. Ogden. He’s the one who placed it around her neck.”

“I can assure you that nobody in administration feels you did anything wrong. However, the hospital does feel it would go a long way to soothe the parents’ pain if we could offer them an explanation of what happened. Being a Code Fifteen, I know it’s a sensitive case. Because of her role on the Patient Safety Committee, I spoke with Dr. Connolly. I told her I’d be calling you. She mentioned to me that you two have already discussed the case in some detail.”

“We met last week. That’s when I assured her that it was Mr. Ogden who put the cross around Alison’s neck.”

“Did you mention that to the parents?”

“I did, but they didn’t know him.”

“You’re quite certain Miss Greene wasn’t wearing the cross when she came from the recovery room?”

“I’m positive. I didn’t have any idea it was magnetized until I met with Dr. Connolly. She was the one who discovered it.”

Gideon felt the hollow of his stomach suddenly wince in spasm. His worst fear realized, he asked, “Do you know how we might be able to contact Mr. Ogden? I was hoping I could convince him to call the Greenes.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t.”

Gideon deliberately sighed loud enough for Dana to hear him.

“You might be able to find him by contacting Broward College. He said he was a professor there.”

“Did he mention what department he was in?”

“Not that I recall.”

“I’ll try to check it out,” he said.

“If I see him again, I’ll tell him to give you a call.”

Taken back by her comment, Gideon asked, “See him again?”

“It doesn’t happen very often, but every now and then one of our visitors will come back to visit somebody else or they just want to talk to one of us about something.”

Trying to keep the pretense going, Gideon said, “But you only saw Mr. Ogden once. You probably wouldn’t even recognize him.”

“I think I would,” she said immediately. “He had a very distinctive look about him. He also had a big gap between his front teeth.”

Gideon resisted the sudden impulse to smash the phone against the nearest rock. Summoning every drop of restraint he had, and taking caution to speak in a normal voice, he said, “I know how busy you must be so I won’t take up any more of your time. Thank you for your help. By the way, please remember that Mr. Allenby considers this case to be of an extremely sensitive nature. I’m sure you understand.”

“Patient confidentiality,” she said. “I know the drill.”

Dana hung up the phone and started back toward her patient’s room. Being an ICU nurse, she had been involved in many situations involving unhappy family members where patient relations had intervened. Mr. Tillinghouse’s call was one of many similar calls she had received since coming to work at Dade Presbyterian. It wasn’t one she was likely to give any further thought to.

 

 

GIDEON went inside and made his way upstairs to his bedroom. He set his cell phone down on an exquisitely crafted baroque dresser. Gazing at his image in an antique gold-framed mirror, he parted his lips and studied his front teeth. He thought about all the times he had considered having the space closed. He had even seen a highly touted dentist who specialized in cosmetic problems but had never made the follow-up appointment to have the bonding procedure done.

Still staring into the mirror, Gideon used his index finger to explore the gap between his teeth. With an ever-growing appreciation of Morgan Connolly’s intelligence and compulsive nature, he reached for his cell phone. There was no doubt in his mind that she had gotten an excellent description of him from both Dana McGinley and her father’s physician assistant.

With a half smile, he scrolled through his phone book. When he reached Dr. David Areca, the dentist whom he had seen in consultation, he dialed the number.

DAY FIFTEEN

 

 

Sitting at the nursing station, Morgan finished writing an antibiotic prescription for a teenager with a sinus infection.

It was still early in the day and the patients hadn’t started flooding the emergency room as yet. She was studying a chest X-ray when her pager went off. It was her office. She picked up the nearest phone.

“Mr. Allenby would like to see you,” Kendra told her in an uncharacteristically formal voice.

“Is he standing right in front of you?” Morgan asked.

“Yes, I believe so.”

“Great,” she muttered. “Put him on.”

“Good morning, Morgan. I was hoping we could have a chat.”

“I’m in the ER, but things are pretty quiet. Can we talk over here?” she asked, wondering how he had acquired such an uncanny sense of bad timing.

“That would be fine. I’ll be right over.”

Morgan replaced the phone and looked over at the chart rack. Fortunately, there were no new patients to be seen.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she told the charge nurse.

As soon as Morgan walked out of the department, she saw Bob approaching. From the somber look on his face, there was little doubt in her mind regarding the purpose of his call.

“I’m sorry to interrupt but it’s rather important.” He pointed across the hall. “Why don’t we talk in the library?”

“Fine,” she answered, thinking to herself that calling the small converted office with one recycled table and one hand-me-down bookcase a library was the euphemism of the month.

Morgan unlocked the door, waited for Bob to walk in, and then followed him inside. They sat down at the table. He pressed his palms together and then lightly tapped his fingertips.

“We have a problem, Morgan. I received a call from AHCA about an hour ago. As I feared they might, they’re sending a team down from Tallahassee to do an on-site investigation of our recent Code Fifteens. Not only do they want to look at the Tony Wallace and Alison Greene cases, they also want to see everything we have on Faith Russo.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. It hasn’t even been two weeks since Miss Russo’s death. I spoke with Blair Clarke in risk management a couple of days ago. Our formal reports to AHCA haven’t even been sent out yet.”

“I understand that.”

“So why are they sending an investigating team down?” she asked.

“Because they can.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“AHCA is under no obligation to wait for the hospital’s final report prior to pursuing an investigation.” He paused briefly. “Look, Morgan. You’re focusing on the wrong thing. AHCA’s coming. Trying to understand the method to their madness isn’t important. At the moment, we have a tough but manageable problem on our hands. My fear is that if we don’t handle this thing just right, it could snowball into a major catastrophe.”

“What do you suggest?” she asked, already beginning to silently cringe in anticipation of his answer.

“We have to show the state that Dade Presbyterian Hospital delivers excellent and consistent health care, and that these patient errors were nothing more than unfortunate aberrations.”

“Unfortunate aberrations?”

“Exactly. We have to persuade them that we fully understand what went wrong and that we’re actively revising our patient care protocols and instituting measures to avoid a repeat occurrence.” Bob fiddled with the Windsor knot of his tie. “We’ve got one swing at the green here and we’d better not shank it.”

Hardly surprised by Bob’s action plan, Morgan asked, “When are they coming down?”

“They said they’d let us know in a few days, but I suspect it will be sooner rather than later.” Bob stopped talking just long enough to clear his throat. “There’s one other matter we should discuss. You were the treating physician in the Faith Russo case. You’re also the chairperson of our Patient Safety Committee. I think AHCA would view that as a clear conflict of interest.”