Richard Mabry - Medical Error

Dowling made a calming gesture. "No need to get angry, Dr. Valentine. We're trying to get our facts straight. We don't need a formal statement from you now, but you may be called on to testify later."

Green grinned and added, "If you have any notion about not giving us a statement or testifying, we'll see that you're subpoenaed. So you'll do it. Whether you want to or not."

During the interview, Nick had been trying to figure out where he'd seen these men. Then it came to him. These detectives were the two men who'd brushed by him on their way out of Anna's house. And apparently they were still out to get her.

"Gentlemen, I hope you'll excuse me." Nick made a show of looking at his watch. "I'm due in surgery in a few minutes to assist with a frozen section. I trust you can find your way out."

He herded them toward the door. Nick figured they had no way to find out if he really was due in surgery. Besides, he needed a cup of coffee, and what they brewed in the surgeons' lounge was usually pretty good if you caught a fresh pot.

The detectives seemed content to go, but Green turned to Nick as they paused at the branch of the corridor where their paths separated. "Thank you for your time, Doctor. And I don't guess I have to remind you that what we've discussed was in confidence. It involves a case under investigation, so don't go talking to anyone about it, or you could find yourself in trouble."

Ross Donovan had told Anna to go home and try to relax, saying he'd call her tomorrow to set up a time for a strategy session. "And don't worry."

Don't worry. She'd just been accused of murder by two cops who seemed to think it was their mission in life to send her to prison, maybe even to death row. Don't worry, indeed.

What Anna wanted was a long soak in her tub, accompanied by a pint of Cherry Garcia ice cream and the latest issue of Vanity Fair. As soon as she got home, she bolted the door, took the phone offthe hook, and set about preparing to make that dream a reality.

She'd been in the tub for about five minutes when she heard her cell phone ring. Drat, she'd forgotten to turn it off. Well, let it ring. She'd return the call later. But the phone continued ringing at five- minute intervals, and finally, like the constant dripping of the Chinese water torture, it wore her down. Swathed in a terry-cloth robe, Anna left a trail of water to the living room, where she snatched up the phone and flipped it open just as the call rolled into voicemail.

The display showed four missed calls, three messages, all from Nick Valentine. Well, she probably wasn't going to have any peace until she talked to him. Besides, she felt bad about the way she'd deflected Nick's attempts to build their relationship. He really did seem to care for her, and right now she could use all the support she could get. She dialed his number and he answered on the first ring.

"Nick, this is Anna. Sorry about missing your calls. I was in the tub."

Nick's tone was that of a mortician discussing final arrangements."Anna, we need to talk."

"Sure." She looked around for a chair that would tolerate the water seeping through her robe. "Go ahead."

"No, not on the phone, especially not on a cell phone. Can I come over?"

"Nick, you're scaring me. And I've already had a bad day, so my coronaries don't need any more stress. What's this about?"

"Anna, I can be there in half an hour. It's important."

Anna dropped into an armchair, heedless of the upholstery by now. "If it's that important, sure. I'll see you then."

Forty minutes later, dressed in jeans and a tee shirt, sneakers on her bare feet, Anna looked through the security peephole of her front door and saw Nick on the porch holding a pizza box. As soon as she opened the door, he eased inside and slammed the door behind him.

"Nick, why all the cloak and dagger stuff?" Anna asked. "I told you, you're scaring me."

Nick dropped the pizza box on the coffee table and turned to take Anna by the shoulders. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, then pulled her to him and hugged her. "Sorry. But maybe I'm sort of scared too. Sit down. I need to tell you some things, even though telling you could get me in trouble with the police."

Anna felt like she was free-falling from a great height. What more could go wrong? And how was Nick involved? She sagged onto the couch, patted the space beside her, and said, "Okay, let's hear it."

Instead of sitting, Nick began to pace. "I had a visit today from two detectives."

As Nick related his story, Anna tried to make sense of it all. Why did these men seem so determined to tie her to the illicit narcotics prescriptions when the DEA had already told her they were satisfied she wasn't involved? And now, the detectives were trying to hold her responsible for Eric Hatley's death, not as an act of malpractice, which was bad enough, but cold-blooded murder?

"And as they left, they told me this was an ongoing investigation, so I couldn't talk about it with anyone. I don't know what they can do to me for coming to you like this, but I don't care. It seems to me that you're in trouble, and I want to help."His forced grin held no humor. "After all, that's what friends do. And we are friends. Right?"

Nick used a paper napkin to wipe a spot of grease off the corner of his mouth. "So you already knew that Green and Dowling were trying to make a case against you?"

Anna nodded and pointed to her full mouth. She chewed the last bite of pizza and washed it down with a healthy swallow of Diet Coke. "Yes," she finally said. "Ross and I met with them at the police station earlier today. They must have gone right from our meeting to your office. What was it they said to you? 'Just getting their ducks in a row.' I'd better call Ross and let him know about this."

While Anna made her call, Nick fought to control his emotions. It seemed to Nick that, slowly but surely, her lawyer was monopolizing Anna's time and attention. His rational mind recognized the need for this, but the little green monster perched on his shoulder continued to whisper in his ear.

Anna closed her cell phone and dropped it into her pocket."I had to leave a message. He'll call back."

"I know you need a lawyer in all this," Nick said, "but do you think Ross Donovan is up to defending you? Especially since this has turned into something really serious. I mean, you've told me he's an alcoholic. His drinking broke up his marriage and almost cost him his law license. Won't you let me ask around and find you somebody better?"

The look in Anna's eyes told Nick he'd gone too far. "The man is a recovering alcoholic," she said. "He's sober and highly motivated to remain that way. As for his competence, his exwife is the chief attorney for the medical center, and she's the one who recommended him. He's done a good job so far, and I don't intend to make a change now."

Nick threw up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry." He pushed the empty pizza box aside and reached across the table. Anna hesitated, but finally put her hand out and Nick took it in both of his. "Anything else?"

Anna pulled her hand back and finished her soft drink."We've got a couple of days, and I don't want to think about this anymore. I have to see Dr. Simpson in the morning, but I should be through by noon. Why don't we get together for lunch in the food court?"

Nick recognized the invitation as a peace offering, and he grabbed at it like a drowning man latching on to a piece of wood floating by. "Sounds great. I'll be in my office. Come by when you're finished."

They both stood. Nick reached for the pizza box and paper plates, but Anna said, "I'll take care of all this. You go ahead. I know you have things to do." She began gathering soiled paper napkins. "Thanks for coming by. Of course, I need to tell Ross about this, but I don't want you to get in trouble with the police over letting me know about their visit. I'll ask him to keep your name out of it."