Tess Gerritsen - Harvest

"What reason?"

"That's not the point of this-'

' What reason?"

Susan released a sharp breath. "One of Mrs Allen's relatives asked us to look into it. She received some kind of note implying the death was suspicious. We notified Dr. Wetfig, of course, and he ordered an autopsy."

Mark handed Abby the lab slip. She stared at it, recognizing the indecipherable scrawl on the line Ordering Physician. It was, indeed, the General's signature. He'd ordered a quantitative drug screen at 11 a.m. yesterday morning. Eight hours after Mary Allen's death.

"I had nothing to do with this," said Abby. "I don't know how she got all this morphine. It could be a lab error. A nursing error-'

"I can speak for my staff," said the nursing supervisor. "We follow strict controls on narcotics administration.You all know that. There's no nursing error here."

"Then what you're saying," said Mark, 'is that the patient was deliberately overdosed."

There was a long silence. Parr said, "Yes."

"This is ridiculous! I was with Abby that night, in the call room!" "All night?" said Susan.

"Yes. It was her birthday, and we, uh…" Mark cleared his throat and glanced at Abby. We slept together was what they were both thinking. "We celebrated," he said.

"You were together the whole time?" said Parr.

Mark hesitated. He doesn't really know, thoughtAbby. He'd slept through all her phone calls, hadn't even stirred when she'd left to pronounce Mrs Allen at three o'clock, nor when she'd left again to restart an IV at four. He was about to lie for her, and she knew that it wouldn't work because Mark had no idea what she'd done that night. Parr did. He had it from the nurses. From the notes and orders she'd written, each one recorded with the time.

She said, "Mark was in the call room with me. But he slept all night." She looked at him. We have to stick to the truth. It's the only thing that'll save me.

"What about you, Dr. DiMatteo?" said Parr. "Did you stay in the room?"

"I was called to the wards several times. But you know that already, don't you?"

Parr nodded.

"You think you know everything!" said Mark. "So tell me this. Why would she do it?Why would she kill her own patient?"

"It's no secret she has sympathies with the euthanasia movement," said Susan Casado.

Abby stared at her. "What?"

"We've spoken with the nurses. On one occasion, Dr. DiMatteo was heard to say, quote…" Susan flipped through the pages of a yellow legal pad. '… "If the morphine makes it easier, then that's what we should give her. Even if it makes the end come sooner." Unquote." Susan looked at Abby. "You did say that, didn't you?"

"That had nothing to do with euthanasia! I was talking about pain control! About keeping a patient comfortable."

"So you did say it?"

"Maybe I did! I don't remember."

"Then there was the exchange with Mrs Allen's niece, Brenda Hainey. It was witnessed by several nurses, as well as Mrs Sperry here." She nodded towards the nursing supervisor. And again she glanced at her legal pad. "It was an argument. Brenda Hainey felt her aunt was getting too much morphine. And Dr. DiMatteo disagreed. To the point of using obscenities."

It was a charge Abby couldn't deny. She had argued with Brenda. She had used an obscenity. It was all crashing in on her now, wave after giant wave. She felt unable to breathe, unable to move, as the waves just kept slamming her down.

There was a knock and Dr. Wettig walked in and carefully shut the door behind him. He didn't say anything for a moment. He just stood at the end of the table and looked at Abby. She waited for the next wave to crash.

"She says she knows nothing about it," said Parr.

"I'm not surprised,"Wettig said. "You really don't know anything about this, do you, DiMatteo?"

Abby met the General's gaze. It had never been easy for her to look directly at those flat blue eyes. She saw too much power there, and it was power over her future. But she was looking straight at him now, determined to make him see that she had nothing to hide.

"I didn't kill my patient," she said. '! swear it."

"That's what I thought you'd say."Wettig reached in his lab coat pocket and produced a combination padlock. He set it down with a thud on the table.

"What's this?" said Parr.

"It's from Dr. DiMatteo's locker. In the last half-hour, I've become something of an expert on combination padlocks. I called a locksmith. He says it's a spring-loaded model, a piece of cake to get open. One sharp blow is all it takes. And it'll snap open. Also, there's a code on the back. Any registered locksmith can use that code to obtain the combination."

Parr glanced at the lock, then gave a dismissive shrug. "That doesn't prove anything. We're still left with a dead patient. And that." He pointed to the vial of morphine.

"What's wrong with you people?" said Mark. "Can't you see what's happening here? An anonymous note. Morphine conveniently planted in her locker. Someone's setting her up."

"To what purpose?" said Susan. "To discredit her. Get her fired."

Parr snorted. "You're suggesting someone actually murdered a patient just to ruin Dr. DiMatteo's career?"

Mark started to answer, then seemed to think better of it. It was an absurd theory and they all knew it.

"You have to agree, Dr. Hodell, that a conspiracy is pretty farfetched," said Susan.

"Not as farfetched as what's already happened to me," said Abby. "Look at what VictorVoss has already done. He's mentally unstable. He assaulted me in the SICU. Putting bloody organs in my car is something only a sick mind would think of. And then there are the lawsuits — two of them already. And that's just the beginning."

There was a silence. Susan glanced at Parr. "Doesn't she know?" "Apparently not."

"Know what?" said Abby.

"We got a call from Hawkes, Craig and Sussman just after lunch," said Susan. "The lawsuits against you have been dropped. Both of them."

Abby reeled back in her chair. "I don't understand," she murmured. "What is he doing? What is Voss doing?"

"If Victor Voss was trying to harass you, it appears he's stopped. This has nothing to do with Voss."

"Then how else do we explain this?" said Mark.

"Look at the evidence." Susan pointed to the vial.

"There are no witnesses, nothing to link that particular vial with the patient's death."

"Nevertheless, I think we can all draw the same conclusion."

The silence was suffocating. Abby saw that no one was looking at her, not even Mark.

At last Wettig spoke. "What do you propose to do, Parr? Call in the police? Turn this mess into a media circus?"

Parr hesitated. "It would be premature…"

"You either make your accusations stick, or you withdraw them. Anything else would be unfair to Dr. DiMatteo."

"My God, General. Let's keep the police out of this," said Mark.

"If you people want to call this murder, then the police should be involved," said Wettig. "Call in a few reporters as well, put your PR

people to work. They could use a little excitement. Get it all out in the open, that's the best policy." He looked directly at Parr. "If you're going to call this murder."

It was a dare.

Parr was the one to back down. He cleared his throat and said to Susan, "We can't be absolutely certain that's what it is."

"You'd better be certain it's murder," said Wettig. "You'd better be damn certain. Before you call the police."

"The matter's still being looked into," said Susan. "We have to interview a few more nurses on that ward. Find out if there's something we've missed."

"You do that," said Wettig.

There was another pause. No one was looking at Abby. She had faded from view, the invisible woman no one wanted to acknowledge.

They all seemed startled when Abby spoke. She scarcely recognized her own voice; it sounded like a stranger's, calm and steady. "I'd like to return to my patients now. If I may," she said. Wetfig nodded. "Go ahead."