Richard Mabry: Code Blue

Cathy sat staring into space, the phone receiver in her hand. When a strident stutter tone shattered the silence of her office, she replaced the handset. Idly, she noted that her hand was steady when she did so. Her surgery instructors had always said she had good hands, even under pressure. She wished her mind were as steady right now.

Two phone message slips. Two calls. And, just when she thought the situation couldn't get worse, she sank further into the pit of anxiety and depression that had held her for these past several months. Josh would have a field day with this.

"What's wrong?" Jane paused in the door, a chart in her hand. Cathy shook her head. Uninvited, Jane eased into the chair across the desk. "You want to talk about it?"

Cathy reached for the soft drink sitting on her desk."Those message slips you gave me? The first was from a sheriff' s deputy. About my accident." She lifted the can to her lips, found it empty, and tossed it into the wastebasket under her desk.

"Did he find the other driver?"

"He said that since there's no evidence of a collision and no witnesses, he's writing it offas driver error on my part."Cathy sighed. "Actually, he reached that conclusion right after he arrived on the scene, but Will pointed out the skid marks and pressured the deputy to at least look into it."

Jane leaned forward. "Will that affect how your insurance company handles the claim?"

"No longer an issue. If my insurance had been in force, this might have raised my rates. But the second call was from my agent. The company just notified him that my last premium check bounced, so apparently, my policy wasn't in force at the time of the accident." Cathy squeezed her eyes closed for a moment. She wouldn't allow herself to cry in front of Jane. "The agent was nice. He said he'll make calls to some people higher up in the company. He'll try to get them to reinstate the policy. He even said he'd talk with the owner of the dealership that's renting me a car and see if he'll discount the bill since I may be paying it out of my own pocket."

"So you're driving without liability coverage?" Jane's voice was calm, but Cathy saw the concern in her eyes.

"The agent's given me temporary coverage. But this is something else I've got to straighten out." Cathy shrugged."I need to make one more call."

Jane took the hint and tiptoed out, closing the door softly behind her.

Cathy fanned out the three message slips like a bridge player studying a critical hand. Sheriff. Insurance Agent. The last call from Dr. Marcus Bell was marked "Urgent." She punched in his number.

"Thanks for calling back," Dr. Bell said.

"I hope it's good news, Marcus. I could use some."

"Actually, it is," he said. "The credentials committee will consider your request for hospital privileges tomorrow night."

"Finally." Cathy saw a glimmer of hope through the gloom that had surrounded her for so long. If she could expand her practice, the extra income might help solve her rapidly multiplying financial worries.

"Would you like to attend the meeting? If you want me to, I'll arrange it."

Cathy turned that thought over for a few seconds. Would her presence improve her chances of a positive response? It couldn't hurt. "Yes, please."

"Great. They meet at six in the conference room," Marcus said. "Would you like to have dinner with me afterward?"

Cathy experienced a return of the guilt she'd felt after turning down Marcus's previous dinner invitation. He'd tried not to show it, but she'd seen the hurt in his eyes. And he seemed like a nice guy, one who might turn out to be a friend-maybe more than a friend. Her lips formed a "Yes," before she stopped herself. Hard on the heels of the tiny flutter she'd felt at the prospect of dating Marcus came memories of her past relationships. No, she wasn't ready to take a chance.

"I'm sorry, Marcus. I want to meet with the committee, but can I take a raincheck on dinner?"

Jane took the chart Cathy handed her, filed it with a flourish, and said, "That's it. You're through for the day."

Automatically, Cathy looked at her watch. Three o'clock. Another light day spent doing insurance physicals, caring for emergencies other doctors couldn't see, refilling the prescriptions of some of Dr. Gladstone's patients who'd decided to give Dr. Sewell's daughter a chance since their faithful old GP was retiring. She knew her bank balance-knew it to the penny-and if her practice didn't pick up soon, Milton Nix's bank would bring in an auctioneer and sell offthe office furniture and equipment she'd gone so deeply in debt to buy.

Not only that, today another patient had told her, "Dr. Sewell, I don't believe those rumors I've been hearing. You're a good doctor." There was no longer any question in Cathy's mind. Someone in town wanted her gone.

Should she make the call? See if the job offer at the medical school in Dallas was still open? No, she couldn't. Going back to Dallas would mean leaving the refuge she hoped to find here in her hometown. Going back to Dallas would mean taking a chance on seeing Robert, having to interact with him. Going back to Dallas would mean returning to the scene of her greatest humiliation. No, Dallas held too many memories. She'd stay here.

A chilling thought struck her. Could Robert be behind all this? His father had both wealth and influence, and Robert was already on his way to achieving that status. It wouldn't be beyond either of them to call in some favors, spread a little cash around, and make her life miserable.

She tried to be logical about it. Why would Robert try to force her out of Dainger? Out of spite? Maybe. He didn't want her back. The newspaper clipping was proof enough of that. But if she returned to Dallas, he could "arrange" to bump into her from time to time, just to rub it in. But surely even Robert wouldn't go that far. Would he?

She shucked offher white coat and tossed it into the laundry hamper, grabbed her purse and briefcase, and headed for the door. She paused at Jane's desk. "I'll be on my cell phone if you need me. See you tomorrow."

"Are you going…?" Jane left the question dangling. Cathy chose to ignore it. "Remember, I have an appointment in Fort Worth tomorrow morning. I'll be in about ten."

She'd have to make arrangements about a car, but for now the rental was still hers. Cathy sat in it with the motor idling, uncertain about her next step. Emotions and thoughts tumbled about in her head. She didn't want to think about her folks. Didn't want to relive those events. But Josh kept telling her that she had to face it. She had an appointment with him tomorrow, and she knew he'd probably mention it again. Maybe today was the day.

Cathy backed out of her parking spot and set a course that she knew she could never forget, no matter how long she was gone from Dainger. Away from the professional building that Jacob Collins had built to house his pharmacy and a few doctors' offices. Jacob, her high school classmate, now her landlord. She wondered how he'd react if she was unable to pay the rent this month or next.

She drove carefully-her mind consumed with thoughts of the past-up the short hill to the Y intersection, where a right turn would take her to Fort Worth. She turned left, then right, then left again. Soon she was on the edge of town, passing the homes of Dainger's more affluent families.

Milton Nix lived there. The open doors of the double garage revealed a midsize gray sedan and a dark SUV. Cathy replayed Nix's visit in her mind. Had she missed anything? She wanted all her patients to do well, but she especially needed the goodwill of the banker.

That rambling ranch house belonged to Judge Sam Lawton. The garage doors were closed. A Ford pickup, its original dark blue faded in spots, stood in the drive. In the yard, two young Hispanics wielded a leaf-blower and string trimmer. Given Sam's age, she guessed he'd stopped doing his own lawn work. Apparently, he could afford it. Cathy had heard rumors that Sam put away a good bit of money before the voters turned him out of office, money that didn't come from his salary as a county judge. Apparently, small towns had their share of under-the-table deals and influence peddling.