Richard Mabry - Medical Error

"Not too big. And I think you'll like these people."

He climbed out and hurried around to open the car door for her. She looked ravishing in a green blouse and tan slacks. Then again, Nick recalled that she looked great in scrubs and a wrinkled white coat too. Maybe it wasn't the clothes.

"Thanks for coming," she said as they approached the house.

"Wouldn't miss it," he said. Well, I would have but it gives me another chance to be with you. He stabbed at the doorbell.

"Everyone's around back." A middle-aged man hurried up the walk behind them, two grocery sacks in one arm and a large plastic bag of ice in the other.

"Thanks, Chet," Anna said. "Nick Valentine, this is your host, Chet Conway. Chet, Nick is a colleague of mine."

"Nice meeting you. Come on this way." Chet nudged a gate open with his foot, and led them through into a large fenced backyard filled with chattering people. People talked in small groups while others bustled back and forth between the kitchen and a long table loaded with food. "Nick, help Chet with those sacks. I'll put this pie down and see if his wife, Martha, needs a hand."

Chet shoved a sack into Nick's arms and said, "Napkins, paper plates, plasticware, cups. Find the nearest person in the kitchen and then run like the wind. Otherwise you'll be drafted." He laughed. "When you escape, find me and I'll introduce you around."

Nick did as he was told. Soon, he stood with Chet and two men whose names he had already forgotten, trying to follow their conversation without being drawn into it.

"I don't know what we're going to do with those people in Congress," the first man said. "No wonder our country's going to the dogs."

"We've always had bad people around. Doesn't mean they can't be good leaders," Chet said.

"Yeah, but it's more likely to happen if they're decent in the first place. Isn't that right?" The second man looked at Nick with a "back me up on this" expression.

Nick managed a shrug.

Chet grinned. Nick had seen that grin before. It was the expression of a staffphysician when a medical student made a statement that wasn't going to stand up under close scrutiny. This could be good.

"Why don't we consider some of the leaders in the Bible? Would you agree they were good people?" Chet said.

The first man nodded. "Sure."

Chet grinned. "Start with Moses. Great leader. Led the Israelites out of captivity. God gave him the Ten Commandments. Moses was bound to be a pretty good guy? Would you sign offon that?"

The first and second man looked at each other, apparently wondering where the trap was. "Sure," they said in unison.

"Remember where Moses was before all that? He was hiding in the desert, because he'd killed a man," Chet said.

The men didn't seem to have an answer for that, but Chet wasn't through. "Ready for another try?"

"Sure," the first man said, not quite so eager now.

"King David," Chet said. "Saved his people by slaying Goliath when he was just a kid. Became king of Israel. Wrote the Psalms."

"Yeah, and the Messiah came from his line," the second man said. Surely this one was a winner.

"Remember what David did after he was king? Lusted after another man's wife and had her husband killed by sending him to the front lines. There's your good man."

Nick let the rest of the conversation wash over him, as he thought about what he'd heard. Nick always figured he'd blown his chance with God when he pulled that trigger. Maybe he'd been wrong.

Meanwhile, the game-for that was what it had become- was in full swing. One man would give an example of a leader. Another would point out his flaws.

"Peter. Lead apostle. Called 'the rock.' "

"Hot-tempered firebrand who cut offa man's ear in a fight.

Denied his Lord three times when the chips were down."

Nick eased away. He'd heard enough to start him thinking. No, this hadn't been "church, the second installment," but there'd been some good stuffthrown around.

"Enjoying yourself?" Anna eased up beside him. "I'm sorry I left you alone for a bit, but I had to help get the food on the table. Ready to eat?"

"Sure," Nick answered. He pointed to the group of men he'd just left. "I don't remember those guys' names, but are they on the church staffor something? They were slinging Bible stuff around right and left."

"Chet, the host, is an insurance agent. Charlie, on the left, is a mechanic. Rick, on the right, is a dentist." She looked around and pointed. "The only minister I see here is the man in Bermuda shorts and flip- flops. That's Robert, our pastor."

Nick reached for Anna's hand, and she allowed him to take it. Together, they strolled toward the long table, where people were already lining up with paper plates in their hands. During the meal, Nick managed to take a polite interest in the conversations that flowed around him, but his thoughts kept coming back to one point: God probably hadn't written him offwhen he'd killed that holdup man. Maybe he had a second chance coming.

On Monday morning, Anna's phone rang while she toasted an English muffin.

"Anna, this is Ross Donovan. Hope I'm not calling too early."

She caught the muffin as it popped from the toaster and immediately dropped it on a plate. "No, not at all. What do you have for me?"

"Agent Hale at the DEA finally returned my call. He agreed to meet with me this morning. Kramer will probably be there too. Do you want to come?"

Anna sucked at her fingers until they stopped burning."What do you think?"

"I think this is the part where I tell them that if they have anything solid, show me a warrant for your arrest. If they don't, then back off, give you a new DEA permit, and let you get on with your life."

"Should you push them like that?"

"Did you tell me the truth when you said you had no knowledge of or involvement with those false narcotics prescriptions?"

"Yes."

"Then it's time to bring it to a head." Donovan's voice took on an edge. "At your first meeting, if they really had something, they'd have brought you in for questioning at their offices. Instead, they came to you and gave you the obligatory nudge, the one they always hope results in a confession. It didn't. Now they're letting you twist in the wind while they check out other leads. It's time that came to a halt."

"Tell me where to meet you."

"Come by my office at nine-thirty this morning. We'll talk some more and drive over there together."

Anna was about to hang up when she thought of another question. "What about the Dallas police?"

"They haven't returned my calls. Let's deal with the DEA first. That'll get you back to your practice."

An hour later, Anna was seated in Ross Donovan's office. She remembered how good the coffee had smelled on her last visit, so she accepted his offer of a cup. Her first sip convinced her that taste and smell weren't always linked. This coffee was so strong she checked the spoon to make sure it hadn't melted after she stirred in the sweetener.

"Coffee a bit strong for you?" Donovan asked.

Anna wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. "I thought I'd had some strong coffee at the hospital, but this tops it. But tastes vary, I guess."

"It's alcoholics' coffee."

She took a cautious sip, but couldn't taste anything but bitter, strong brew.

Donovan smiled. "No," he said. "Not alcoholic coffee. It's like the coffee you find at AA meetings everywhere. Hot, strong, and lots of it. When you're trying to avoid one addiction, you tend to find a replacement. A lot of alcoholics smoke. Some get hooked on sweets. Most guzzle coffee. I decided there was no reason to kick alcohol only to get lung cancer or diabetes, but I was willing to risk an ulcer."

"If you don't mind my asking, how can an alcoholic practice law?"

"Well, as it turns out, not very well. I managed never to drink before I met with clients or had to be in court. But I made up for it by drinking at other times. And, as my ex can attest, I combined that with running around on her. She tried to straighten me out, but finally she'd had enough. She filed for divorce."