The Insanity Plea (20 page)

The officers excused themselves. In a
matter of minutes a distinguished-looking doctor of African-American descent, dressed
in a white coat and wearing gold wire rim glasses, walked up to Wayne and
extended his hand. “I’m Dr. Alberson. I’m a critical care specialist and will
have primary responsibility for Rita. I understand you’re not a relative and
our rules normally don’t permit me to discuss patient care with non-family
members. But, I’m told you’re her neighbor and a lawyer; so, I presume that you
are her attorney, correct, Mr. Little?”

“Absolutely, Doctor. I have a power
of attorney from her back at my office,” Wayne replied, playing along with the
ruse Dr. Alberson came up with to let him know what was to happen.

“Very well. We’re about to take her
to the ICU. I’ve got a neurologist already working with me. She’s still
intubated and needs to be on a ventilator. We’re going to keep her sedated for
two or three days and then start waking her. We’ll be doing serial CT scans. Our
biggest concern is brain swelling caused by hypoxia. Any questions?”

Wayne nodded his understanding

 
“Do you know how to contact her family? Parents?”

“I’ll call them right now. They live
down in Pasadena. They should be here in an hour or so.”

“Fine. Ask the nurse to page me when
they arrive. By the way, I wouldn’t give them any false hope.”

Wayne called Rita’s dad’s work
number, figuring that he would be less alarmed than her mother. Wayne
downplayed Rita’s condition, saying only that she had been attacked while
jogging, that surgery was a success and they needed to come to Hermann’s trauma
ICU.

Next he called Duke and Claudia, both
of whom dropped what they were doing to get to the hospital. Then he called his
mother. Knowing Sarah was a strong woman, he was blunt with her about what
happened and Rita’s prognosis. She said she would let Dan know and even offered
to fight Houston traffic if Wayne wanted someone else to share the watch. Wayne
told her he thought they could maintain an around-the-clock vigil without her
and that she could better help by carefully monitoring Dan.

 
Wayne had moved to a different reception area
outside the ICU and was idly staring at a television monitor mounted on the
wall, when he looked up to see Duke striding down the hall, followed by Claudia
who had to run to keep up with her long-legged lover.

“What was she doing in Hermann Park
in the middle of the night? What’s her condition? Is she gonna be all right? How
are we going to catch this motherfucker?”

“Duke, take a deep breath,” Claudia
said as she pushed him into a chair. “I presume we can’t see her since we’re
not family. Is there a cafeteria around here somewhere? Wayne, I’ll bet you
could use a sandwich.”

“Good idea. I think there’s one down
the hall. Rita’s parents should be here in thirty or forty-five minutes. That’s
enough time to get something.”

The three lawyers walked in silence
to the cafeteria. Claudia and Wayne opted for club sandwiches. Duke ordered two
double cheeseburgers. When they were seated at a corner table as far away from
others as possible, Wayne laid out what he knew about the attack, Rita’s
condition and prognosis.

Duke finished his second
cheeseburger, wiped his mouth and spoke. “You’ve answered all of our questions
but one. How are we going to catch this guy?”

“Look, Duke,” Claudia said, “we’re
lawyers, not detectives. All we can do is keep pressure on the police. If
someone’s caught, it’s up to them.”

“Hold on a minute,” Wayne
interrupted. “We were on to something. Besides the victim in Dan’s case, Rita
and Dan had put together list of about fifteen similar killings. We’ve got the
FBI and law enforcement all over the country involved. Rita is probably number
sixteen and the only one that lived. Maybe Rita’s assault was not a random
attack.”

“Hell, Wayne, that information and a
dollar will get you a cup of coffee in this damn cafeteria. Are you saying that
some serial killer discovered Rita’s research and decided to make her his next
victim? That’s a little too far out for me. Show me some evidence.”

“Got none. Just outlining the facts. Let’s
save this for another day. We need to get back upstairs and wait for Rita’s
parents.”

Wayne had met Rita’s parents on a
couple of occasions when they visited her condo. So, when an older Hispanic
couple walked toward the ICU waiting area, he greeted them immediately. Francisco,
Rita’s father, was of medium height with a dark complexion, partly from his
heritage and partly from working in the sun for forty years. Tina, her mother,
was a petite woman with gray hair. Both became United States citizens in the
Reagan amnesty program.

Dr. Alberson was paged and arrived in
ten minutes to explain Rita’s condition. Wayne watched as horror filled Tina’s
face.

“Is she going to be all right?”
Francisco asked.

“We hope so, sir. However, it’s too
early to be certain. You’re welcome to see her once an hour for five minutes or
so. I must warn you, though, that we’re purposely keeping her sedated for at
least a couple of days.”

Understanding what to expect did not
make it any easier on Francisco and Tina. Both followed Dr. Alberson into the
ICU and came out wiping their eyes. Francisco was able to regain composure,
telling the doctor that Wayne, Claudia and Duke were to be considered family
and could see Rita as often as permitted. Wayne talked to Rita’s parents and
explained that it would do no good for them to be there twenty-four hours a
day. She would be sleeping and would be carefully monitored. Further, the
doctors would let them know when they elected to cut back on sedation. So, they
worked out a schedule with four shifts, one each manned by Wayne, Claudia and
Duke and one by Rita’s parents.

Then they waited. Each hour the
person on watch would check on Rita, knowing that there would be no change. The
doctors did CT scans twice a day and reported no swelling of the brain. Further,
her vital signs remained normal and there was no sign of fever. The doctors
explained that they could not hope for much more.

On the evening of the third day,
Wayne was leaving with Francisco and Tina taking over the vigil when he saw Dr.
Alberson approaching.

Dr. Alberson took a seat in the
reception area and Wayne returned to a chair beside Rita’s parents.

“Evening Mr. and Mrs. Contreras,
Wayne. You folks holding up okay?”

“About as well as could be expected,”
Wayne replied. “What’s Rita’s status?”

“We’re ready to bring her out of
sedation. If things continue well during the night, we’ll start weaning her off
the medications tomorrow. Hopefully, she’ll begin to wake up in the afternoon. So
far, we don’t have any sign of brain swelling.” He smiled. “We’ll be moving her
to an intermediate care room tonight. The nurse can give you the room number. I’d
suggest that you all be here around noon tomorrow and we’ll pray for the best.”

That night Duke insisted that Wayne
meet him for a beer at Scoop’s, a watering hole not far from Wayne’s condo. Duke
wanted to get Wayne away from the hospital and take his pulse.

When Wayne entered the bar, he
spotted Duke at a table watching the Astros on a giant screen TV. As Wayne
approached two younger guys walked over and asked for Duke’s autograph. They
each handed him a paper napkin. With a grin and a flourish, Duke signed the
napkins and the two fans returned to their places at the bar.

“How many times have you signed your
John Hancock
?”

“Don’t know, but if I had a quarter
for everyone, I’d be damn well off.” After ordering two draft Samuel Adams
beers, Duke said, “Well, my best brother, give it to me straight. You got a lot
on your plate these days.”

Wayne took a small sip of his beer
and said nothing for a while. Duke was about to ask again when Wayne replied. “I
can tell you this, Duke, and no one else. To the rest of the world I’ve got to
be the strong brother and the strong, well, friend and neighbor. All right, I’m
really more than just a friend to Rita. You and I both know it. But, I’m
scared, Duke. I’m scared for my brother. His life is on the line. I’m worried
that my mother, as strong as she is, won’t be able to handle the stress of the
trial.”

Duke nodded his understanding.

“Then on top of that, this happened
to Rita. Duke, we’re hoping for the best, but tomorrow we may find that the old
Rita is no longer there, that she’s got permanent brain damage. It’s tough. I’m
glad that you’re here for me, Claudia, too.”

As Duke listened, he picked up a
napkin to blow his nose while he also dabbed a tear from his eye. “Look, Wayne,
no bullshit. Rita’s going to come out of this. Then, we’re going to focus on
Dan’s trial. I wish I could be as certain about Dan as I am about Rita, but I’d
be shitting you if I said it was a sure thing. Still, we’re going to give it our
best shot and you know we’re two damn fine lawyers. Capital Kate ain’t seen
nothing yet.”

Duke was pleased to see his last
comment brought a smile to Wayne’s face, the first one he’d seen in four days. Now,
he thought, if they can just be smiling this time tomorrow evening.

It was late morning the next day. This
time Wayne turned slowly into the hospital parking lot and found a visitor
space. Instead of exiting the car, he gripped the steering wheel and focused on
the hospital entrance as if his will could restore his friend to the Rita of
old. Finally, he opened the door to his Armada, climbed out and walked slowly
toward the building.

When he got to Rita’s room, he found
her parents. Francisco was sitting in a chair and Tina was sitting on the edge
of the bed, holding Rita’s hand. Rita had been extubated and was breathing on
her own…a good sign.

“How’s she doing?” Wayne asked as he
joined Tina at the bedside.

“The doctors say that she’s doing
okay. They’ve taken her off those medications that had her sleeping,” Francisco
replied, his voice still showing concern. “A nurse comes in every few minutes
and looks at those monitors and then hurries out. We’re just waiting.”

Wayne studied the monitors, determining
that her blood pressure was one twenty over seventy, her pulse was sixty-five
and her respirations were a steady fifteen. All good numbers.

“Tina, you look like you’re the next
one to collapse. Can I get you some coffee or a soda?”

Tina had slept little in the past few
days. Her face was gaunt and eyes sunken. Still she smiled, “Thank you, Wayne. We’re
okay. The nurse brought us a pitcher of water and some cups. Help yourself if
you like.”

Wayne turned to a bedside table and
poured a small cup of water. As he put it to his mouth, the door opened. Duke
and Claudia came in and, after greetings, Duke spoke.

“I was hoping that Rita would be up
and running laps around the room by now. Guess I was just a little too
optimistic.”

“Let’s give her a few weeks to get
back to running. I’ll settle for a few words,” Wayne replied.

Then Rita stirred, causing the people
in the room to watch with expectation. They were disappointed when she merely
shifted her position and nothing more. It was two hours later before their
vigil was rewarded. Wayne, Duke and Francisco were talking about the Astros
game the night before when Tina quietly said, “Rita, it’s me.”

They went to the bedside and found
Rita’s eyes were open. Francisco firmly grasped his wife’s hand. “I’m here, too
Rita. Can you hear us? Can you say something?”

Moments went by and they watched as
Rita closed her eyes again. Disappointment filled the room until Rita opened
her eyes a second time.

“Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad,” she said in a
whisper, her voice hoarse after a breathing tube had been between her vocal
cords for days.
 
She glanced around the
room and added, “There’s my posse, too.” As if those few words sapped her
strength she closed her eyes and soon was asleep.

Wayne left the room to find a doctor.
In a matter of minutes he returned with Dr. Alberson.

“I hear we have some good news,” he
said as he glanced at the monitors, then checked her pulse and blood pressure manually,
as if he didn’t always trust machines. Next he opened her eyelids and shined a
light into each eye.

“Everything looks good. She came out
of it right on schedule and her recognizing you with clear speech is a very
good sign. Her pupils are equal and properly reactive. Don’t be surprised if
she has traumatic amnesia. She probably won’t remember a thing about the
attack. Some bits and pieces may come back in a few months, maybe not at all.
 
I think we’re about out of the woods.”

Wayne left his condo the next morning
and stopped by one of the flower shops Rita had passed on her fateful early
morning run only a few days before. Not sure what to buy, he finally chose red,
yellow, purple and white roses, a dozen of each color, and the largest vase
they had on the shelf. He put the roses and vase on the passenger seat and
drove to the hospital.

As he walked by the reception desk at
the hospital, the female attendant glanced up and grinned as she said, “Must be
someone important in our hospital today.”

“Yep,” Wayne replied. “Probably the
most important person you’ve had here since that Saudi Prince had his gall
bladder taken out by Dr. Andrassy last year.”

Wayne whistled down the hall and
shoved open the door with his foot. He found

Rita sitting up in bed, watching
The View
on television. Her eyes widened
and she broke into a laugh when she saw him juggling the roses and vase. “Hi,
handsome.”

Wayne set the vase on the window sill
and managed to shove the roses to one side while he bent over to kiss Rita.

“You know you didn’t need to buy out
the flower shop. After what I went through, just seeing you is enough.”

Wayne took her hand in both of his. “I
know, beautiful. I just wanted you to know that I’m celebrating your recovery. Boy,
am I glad you made it. You had us all worried there for a few days.”

“Fortunately, I don’t remember a
thing,” Rita said as she shifted toward Wayne.

“You’re just going to have to put up
with a neighbor who has a scar on her neck.”

“You know damn well it won’t bother
me.”

As if on cue, Dr. Huerta walked into
the room. “Morning, Wayne. I heard my patient woke up. Rita, you’re looking
great. Now, I want to take the bandage off your neck so I can have a look at
that wound.”