Second Opinion (20 page)

Read Second Opinion Online

Authors: Michael Palmer

BOOK: Second Opinion
9.93Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

CHAPTER 36

'The confusions in life are there to give us strength and teach us lessons.'

Dr. Carpenter's words, dating back to Thea's earliest sessions with her, were reverberating in her head as she sat down by herself in the cafeteria. Because Carpenter was on vacation, the appointment Thea had made with her was still a week away. Now, she considered calling to see if her therapist had decided to come home early.

The mushroom omelet, OJ, and plain toasted bagel on her plate seemed like a good idea when she ordered them, but not so at the moment. It was doubtful she could even manage a bite. In less than twelve hours, she had made a total mess of situations that were already difficult and confusing for her.

She had botched the break-in at Lydia Thibideau's office, put Dan in danger for having to rescue her, unjustly accused Scott Hartnett of trying to harm his patient and dear friend, alerted him once again of her belief that her father had locked-in syndrome, and allowed Dimitri to share his outrageous behavior of eavesdropping on their brother and sister. And now she was faced with the ordeal of having to confront Hayley with the fact that she might not have cancer, but that on the other hand, maybe she did have it and was now disease-free because of the chemo she was receiving.

Thea had jumped to conclusions regarding the injections Hartnett had been giving to Petros, and she might very well be off base in her conclusions as to what was going on with Thibideau and the MRIs. The files she and Flowers had gone after were not the official records, so the gastroenterologist might be using them for anything. The official records were totally electronic, and were securely locked behind the complex access codes of the impenetrable Thor.

Thea's breakfast lay uneaten as she struggled to untangle the situations initiated by her father's arcane, single-word message.
Kalishar.
At the moment, only one thing seemed totally clear—she was in over her head.

Maybe she had missed something in her reasoning surrounding the Thibideau files. She had misinterpreted Hartnett's behavior, why not this? She tried a few sips of orange juice, then gave up and pushed her tray aside, forcing herself to do what she should have done before confronting Hartnett—to search for other logical explanations that would encompass the facts as she knew them.

Perhaps there was some sort of comparison study going on, which Thibideau had not mentioned to her. Perhaps there were pairings or groupings of MRIs in her files that had nothing to do with the individual nature of the cases.

If Thea had used her vaunted intelligence and, instead of jumping to conclusions, had tried to come up with alternative explanations for what the nurse, Marlene, had reported to her, she might not have fouled things up so badly.

She needed Dan—needed him to listen to her, to keep her from jumping to conclusions, to keep her Asperger's at bay, even to make love with her.

At that instant, as if by request, she felt the vibration of her cell phone through her jacket pocket. Dan's name and number were in the caller ID.

'I'm trying to reach someone who would be interested in a caper,' he said, 'where we steal the Hope Diamond and replace it with an Easter egg.'

'Very funny.'

'Hey, you sound glum. I had expected you would be on cloud nine.

'Do you know what that means—being on cloud nine?'

'No, but I suspect you do.'

'Actually, I do. It's Buddhist. And yes, I am glum.'

Thea reviewed the events since her return home from her rescue in Thibideau's office. Dan listened patiently.

'Well, I don't know,' he said when she was done.

'Don't know what?'

'Don't know if you're wrong about Thibideau. There's a lot of money at stake for anyone coming up with a wonder drug for anything. Maybe she's developed a drug that didn't work and she's faking the results.'

'Two hundred million dollars.'

'What two hundred million dollars?'

'I think that's how much Jack Kalishar donated to the hospital after Thibideau's experimental drug that you're speculating might not have worked saved his life.'

Dan whistled.

'So maybe it wasn't the drug.'

'Or maybe the people who weren't saved by her drug were killed by it.'

'You're getting way ahead of me. All I can tell you, hon, is to do the thing with Hayley that you do better than anyone else I've ever known—be honest. She's capable of helping you to sort things out and ultimately it's her choice. Now, what about this business with Hartnett? Do you believe him? No, wait, don't answer that. You believe everyone.'

'I guess until they give me reason not to, I do. The way Scott explained why he was injecting my father was totally believable. I mean, he
is
Petros's doctor.'

'Do you still have the syringe he gave you?'

'Yes, but I was going to discard it. Why?'

'Call it a character defect or my personal genetic quirk, but I'm just not quite as trusting as you. I want to have it run at the lab.'

'I want to see you, Dan.'

'I want to see you, too, babe, but Josh is here with a fever of one-oh-one and a bad throat and a bad cough. I've got an appointment with his pediatrician in a couple of hours. His mother's away until tomorrow afternoon. She'll take over after she gets back. Maybe you can come by later this afternoon.'

'My brother Niko's having a barbecue for all our relatives to come by and see me.'

'Sounds like fun.'

Thea decided not to bring up Dimitri's accusations regarding the twins. She had already piled enough of her worries onto Dan's plate, and now there was his concern for Josh.

'Any more word on that man from Delaware?' she asked.

'Gerald Prevoir. Not yet, but I've got a guy on it—an excellent private detective from New York that I got to know at a forensics conference a couple of years ago.'

'I'll cross my fingers.'

'And I'll cross my fingers that things go well with Hayley.'

'Make sure they check him for mono.'

'Prevoir?'

'No, silly… Oh, nice one. Take advantage of the Asperger's girl.'

'I didn't know you got a cough with mono.'

'Seven percent of cases.'

'I'll bring it up.' 'Do you want the reference?'

'Somehow, I don't think there's much to be gained in this case by intimidating Josh's pediatrician.'

'I feel better for talking with you, Dan Cotton.'

'And I feel better for talking with you, Alethea Sperelakis.'

'SEAN
is back home in Georgia. He enjoys it when he gets a chance to fly in one of the company planes.'

'I was happy when I heard that he wasn't caught.'

'He almost never gets caught. Call it his specialty. He says you were very brave.'

'That just means I fooled him. Tell him he witnessed the beginning and end of my career as a cat burglar.'

'Okay, I hereby accept your resignation from the ancient and revered order of professional pilferers. Now, tell me what you found.'

In an instant, Hayley's expression had become all business. Her dark eyes were fierce and alive, ready to focus in on whatever Thea had to present to her—cobra's eyes, ready for battle.

Sitting in her easy chair, her fine hands motionless on a copy of
The Economist,
Hayley listened to the account of the ultimately abortive break-in at her oncologist's office. Only when Thea had finished did she speak, beginning with a series of questions, the answers to which Thea could only speculate.

'What if I choose to stop my treatments until the dust settles and we can confront Dr. Thibideau with our concerns?… Is it even remotely possible that my cancer could be so chemo-sensitive it could have melted away so quickly?… Do you think Thibideau would share details of the death of this Grigsby and some of the other patients in her SU990 studies?… Could your acupuncturist tell from my
Qi
if I had ever had cancer in my body at all?…'

Never did she ask the one question Thea was certain she would. What would Thea herself do at this moment if confronted with circumstances identical to these?

An hour passed, then most of another. After Thea had answered the last of her unanswerable questions, Hayley called her husband, David, in Atlanta. Thea twice asked silently if Hayley wanted her to leave the room. Each time, a wave encouraged her to sit back. The billionaire was insightful, patient, and analytical in synthesizing material for her husband, who was, Thea had been told, a successful and respected architect and yacht designer. By the time the conversation between the two of them was over, Thea suspected she knew what the woman's decision would be.

'If it's okay with you, my friend,' Hayley said, 'David and I have decided, as he just put it, to stay the course. He lost his first wife tragically to an aneurysm whose warning signs she had ignored; he doesn't want to lose this one. And frankly, I'm not ready to go just yet.'

Thea crossed to her as Hayley stood, and the two women embraced with deep emotion.

'I'm not ready to have you go just yet either,' Thea said.

CHAPTER 37

From her childhood to her thirties, Thea had never done very well at parties and other social gatherings.

Early on it was the commotion and the noise, and the perceived lack of interest the other children had in doing what she wanted them to do. Later, in her school years, it was the social dynamics and intrigues, combined with the feeling that everybody was connected with everybody else in some way, except for her. By college, her therapy, individual and group, had begun to take hold, and she was able to use her intellect to reason through situations and to react to them in a more logical, sensible, and acceptable way. Friends began showing up in her life and staying around. Men began taking an interest in her. And most important of all, she began to accept herself and various aspects of her Asperger syndrome, as well as her gradual evolution as a person.

But she still felt edgy at parties.

Niko and his family lived in a staid, opulent area of Newton. Doctor Village, some called it. Their backyard was easily capable of handling the eighty or ninety who were there this night, milling about beneath Japanese lanterns, gushing about the food and about the beauty of the grounds. His wife, a stunning nurse, Greek on both her mother's and father's sides, had stopped working soon after their marriage, and now devoted herself to managing their nanny and housekeeper, as well as the various groundsmen necessary to maintain such a place. And although the couple seemed like devoted parents of their three bright, talented, and charming children, in what time she had spent around her brother and his wife, Thea had seldom seen the two of them touch or talk.

From all Thea could tell, there was a mix of medical and nonmedical guests, most of whom, aside from the relatives, she either did not remember well or had never met. She suspected that her arrival back in the country was just a small portion of the motivation for the gala.

'Hey, there, sis.'

Selene, elegant in a white pants suit with gold lame trim, cradled a glass of champagne in her left hand, and a dainty lobster salad sandwich in her right.

'Oh, hi, Selene. Nice party, huh?'

'Niko and Marie throw the best barbecues.'

'Everyone seems to be having a great time.'

Small talk. There was a time when Thea didn't have the vaguest idea of what it was or what purpose it served. Now she smiled inwardly whenever she heard herself use it seamlessly.

'See Petros today?'

No more small talk from Selene. Iwice.

'He blink you any messages?'

Thea sought to comprehend the tone behind the words, then simply gave up.

'How'd you learn about that?' she asked.

'Everybody
knows
about it, Thea. But I must add that not so many, me included, believe it.'

'That's okay.'

'Knowing how he felt about you leaving the country the way you did, it's a little hard for me to see him choosing you as the one portal for his communication with the world.'

'Maybe I'm just misinterpreting things.'

Thea began casting about for someone else she might want to talk with. The combination of Selene's now clearly disparaging tone, and the information passed on about the woman by Dimitri, were more than she wanted to deal with at this moment.

'You know, Thea,' Selene went on, 'in this family we pride ourselves in not keeping secrets from one another. If you have something to tell us about Petros, we'd like to hear it.'

'Like what?'

'Like whether he's really awake and alert, and whether he's found a way to tell you that he knows whether or not the driver of that car actually hit him on purpose.'

Thea felt slightly ill at the notion of how much conversation had been going on about her throughout the hospital, first about her and Dan, now this.

'Do you believe that was the case?' she asked.

'I believe what the police believe after their thorough investigation.'

'Selene, if I learn anything at all from Dad, you'll be the first one I tell.'

'You should have just let him die, you know.'

'What?'

'Not everything is as simple as you think. It was his time. He could have had a peaceful passing, but you just couldn't let it happen.

Thea felt an intense burn across the back of her neck.

'No, Selene,' she said, 'I just couldn't.'

She reached out to a passing waiter and plucked a cucumber-and-something hors d'oeuvre from his tray, then followed him across the lawn, consciously refusing to look back. When she finally did, on the far side of the yard, she saw Selene huddled in animated, secretive conversation with her twin. Twice, she thought Selene actually gestured in her direction.

Half an hour of standing by herself, except for an occasional brief visit from one of her Aunt Marys or a cousin, had Thea thinking about going home, even though the jazz trio had just begun playing, and there was no sign yet of dessert. None of those at the party were friends of hers, or even acquaintances from her school years. Dimitri might have been fun to have along, but then again, he was just as likely to do something outrageous and disruptive. In fact, she found herself wondering if Niko had actually invited their brother at all, or if she had just assumed he had. If
she
were somewhat out of place here, Dimitri would have been positively extraterrestrial.

Thea was about to return to the buffet for seconds when she saw Amy Musgrave striding purposefully toward her. The legendary director of nursing at the Beaumont, a trim, intense fifty or so, was married to a doctor, and had some children, but at the moment her husband, a psychiatrist, Thea thought, was nowhere in evidence. Remembering that Marlene had warned her about Amy being irritated that Thea had hired special-duty nurses, she was on alert. Within seconds, she knew she had good reason to be.

'So, Thea, what do you think of your welcome-home party?'

'It's very beautiful here. So peaceful.'

'Yes, peaceful. Niko and Marie certainly know how to throw a shindig.'

'Listen, Amy, I want to explain why I decided to hire specials for my father.'

'No need,' she replied coolly.

'My brother Dimitri has a theory regarding the hit-and-run. He thinks it was deliberate.'

'Excuse me for saying it, Thea, but I've met Dimitri a number of times. He doesn't seem too, how should I put it, reliable.'

'But he is very bright. You'll have to give him that.'

'Actually, since you brought it up, it seems as if he goes out of his way to rile people up and upset them.'

'Perhaps. But I've seen him be right any number of times.'

If you say so.

'Then, remember the fake orderly who assaulted the guard outside of the unit?'

'Of course.'

'Well, I believe he was sent into the hospital to silence my father.'

'The motive?'

'Well, Dimitri feels that Petros learned something that someone didn't want to have made public.'

'About what?'

Musgrave suddenly seemed interested.

'I don't know.'

'But you agree with him?'

'I do. That's why I decided to have Father watched around the clock—not because I thought he needed more or better nursing care, just to keep a closer eye on the many visitors to his room, and to stay on the lookout for anyone who wasn't there as a friend.'

Musgrave sighed and gazed out across the crowd.

'Thea, someone needs to tell you,' she said finally.

'Tell me what?'

'Tell you that in all likelihood, your father's accident was just that, an accident. But if it wasn't, if somebody had intentionally tried to harm him, it wouldn't have come as a surprise to a lot of people.'


wouldn't have come as a surprise to a lot of people.

Thea was stunned. She struggled to make sense of the words coming from a woman she respected—a woman whom she had thought was a staunch supporter of her father's.

'I don't understand,' she managed.

The jazz trio had been joined by a singer—a stocky woman with a powerful voice, who was bemoaning the man who got away. Thea found herself unable to maintain even the slightest eye contact with Musgrave, and instead focused on the lantern light sparking off the singer's skintight sequined gown.

'Do you know,' Musgrave said, 'that the National Hospital Association is locked in a war with the nursing services from all over the country as to whether or not there should be legislation setting minimum standards for RN staffing?'

'Not really. I—'

'The nursing associations are battling bravely to see those standards implemented, but we're up against big, big money—insurance company money, managed care money, hospital corporation money. And the truth is we're going to lose. As things stand, the only hospital of our size in this country that meets the standards right now is the Beaumont.'

'So that's good.'

'Good for us, but we are fighting for other hospitals and their patients as well. The correlation between a sufficient number of RNs and hospital morbidity and mortality has been well established.'

'I think I might be missing something. What has this got to do with Petros Sperelakis?'

'Your father has been fighting against the fundraising philosophy that has enabled our main hospital and its satellites to win award after award for our nursing service. If your father had his way, the

Beaumont would not be in a position to lead the way in nurse staffing or any other area.'

'Knowing my father as I do, Amy, excuse me for saying so, but I just don't believe it.'

'Suit yourself.'

'Exactly what do you mean by fundraising philosophy anyway?'

The figure written beside Scott Hartnett's thank-you in Jack Ka-lishar's chart flashed across her mind.

Two hundred million dollars.

'Your father was made a department chief in the Beaumont because of his name and reputation, and in that regard, he has also brought in a good deal of revenue—but certainly not nearly the sort of revenue we need to run and expand an institution of the stature of the Beaumont. The truth is, Thea, the man has been a thorn in the side of almost everyone responsible for raising the sort of money we need to keep our hospital at the top of the heap. There are a lot of us who feel Petros had been throwing his weight around just because he liked the sound when someone got hit.'

Thea pulled her gaze from the singer and was finally able to level it steadily at Musgrave.

'Is Scott Hartnett one of those people?' she asked.

'I think I've said enough for now. I hear that you have decided to take over your father's practice. I hope you have allegiance to hospitals like ours and the lengths they have to go to in order to keep saving lives.'

'I asked you if Scott was one of those who feels my father has been an impediment to raising funds at the Beaumont.'

'That's not for me to say, but I just want you to know that your father is not always the icon you might think he is. And you are beginning to make some enemies around here—very powerful enemies.'

Without waiting for a response, the nursing director turned on her heel and was gone.

Utterly stunned by Musgrave's words and the vehemence behind them, Thea followed with her eyes until the woman had disappeared around a corner of the house. Then she decided that she had heard as much as she wanted to hear about her deficiencies and those of her father, and had met as many people who were there to honor her as she was going to meet. Dessert or no dessert, she was leaving.

Other books

Pickpocket's Apprentice by Sheri Cobb South
Chasing Hope by Kathryn Cushman
The Iron Ship by K. M. McKinley
Surrender by Heather Graham
A New World: Sanctuary by John O'Brien