Stephen White: Critical Conditions

“No. We did what we could. My niece’s fate now rests in the hands of a bunch of doctors I’ve never met.”

“It beats having her fate rest in the hands of a bunch of bean counters you’ve never met.”

“Amen.”

Next, I paged John Trent. When he phoned back, I invited him to meet me at Ellyngton’s in the Brown Palace lobby for breakfast. He protested that he couldn’t leave the hospital.

I was impatient with him. I said, “John, this isn’t social. I think you know what this is about.”

He said, “Oh. What time?”

Trent slid into the booth looking like a death row inmate who just received word of a pardon from the governor and then was told that there had been an error.

“Coffee, John? It’s pretty good, much better than the hospital’s.”

“Thanks, yes.” He ran his fingers back over the top of his head in a manner that suggested he had once had a head full of long hair.

I signaled to the waiter.

“Good news today, huh? You heard? It’s like a miracle. I wish I knew what changed their minds.”

“Yes, Sam told me.”

“I wonder why now.” He shook his head a little. “You know, before you called, I had a good feeling about everything for the first time. I think it’s a go today. I really do.”

I allowed him to savor the change in the winds of fortune for Chaney while the waiter delivered coffee and a menu. Without opening the menu, John ordered oatmeal, wheat toast, and a fruit plate.

He sipped his coffee. “So, you know?”

I shrugged.

He narrowed his eyes. “Maybe you’re guessing.”

“And if I am?”

“Then I can enjoy my breakfast. You know, I don’t think I’ve actually tasted a bite of food in a month. Maybe this morning I can.”

“And if I’m not guessing?”

“This all gets quite complicated for me.”

It was time for me to switch to decaf. I pushed my saucer away.

I said, “You know Robilio’s daughter?”

He turned his head a little bit to the side the way my dog does when I’ve said something tantalizing but unintelligible.

He sipped from his cup before replying. “No. I don’t.”

“Her name is…I don’t remember what her name is, but they call her Sunny. She lives in Grand Junction.”

“That’s nice.”

“I spent some time with her, well, recently. She told me about her aunt and uncle. What are their names? Andrew and Abby, uh, Porter, I think.” I paused. His eyes were on the silverware. “Anyway, she went on and on about their divorce, and their custody fight. Sticky situation for the family. The extended family, you know.”

One long nod ensued. Matter-of-factly, he said, “Oh. So you do know.” He folded his napkin neatly on the table, caught my eyes, and held them. He said, “I’m out of here right now unless this stops being breakfast and starts being an adjunct family session.”

I thought about the offer for a few seconds, had half-expected it would come to this. I didn’t care much about what I could legally report to the justice system right then. I said, “Fine. This is treatment, John.”

He replaced his napkin on his lap and finished the coffee in his cup. “After I put the pieces together, and realized I was doing a custody eval on his sister-in-law, I approached Dr. Robilio with a trade. I’d make a custody recommendation to the court that was favorable to his wife’s sister if he would get MedExcel’s medical board to approve the procedure that Chaney needs. That’s it, that was the deal. I’m not proud of it, but I’d do it again in a second if I thought it would help Chaney.”

I tried to keep a straight face. I’d had no idea that Trent had proposed a bargain. “How did Robilio respond?” I reminded myself not to call him Dead Ed.

“Said he’d think about it.”

“And?”

“I went back the next day, told him time was tight for Chaney. He said okay; he’d do it for Beth, his wife.”

“And you wrote the recommendation to the court?”

“No. My report wasn’t due for a week. I called the interested parties and suggested to them what was going to happen. Call it a good will gesture to Robilio while I awaited word of the approval for Chaney.”

That was the call Diane had received from Trent. The one she was so concerned about during lunch at Jax Fish House.

“The day I told you about before? At his house. The day I got so angry, when Merritt may have overheard me? That was because Robilio reneged, said he couldn’t go through with it. Said his sister-in-law was a lush, didn’t deserve the kids.”

“But you went back one more time.”

He closed his eyes. “Do the police know?”

I didn’t know what they knew. “They know a lot.”

“Did Andrew see me?”

Andrew? Did Andrew see him do what? “This isn’t about me telling you what they know. It’s about you telling me what you know.”

“When I went back to Robilio’s house, Andrew was there. His car was in the driveway. I didn’t know it was his car, but I didn’t want to go in while Robilio had a guest. So I waited. Fifteen, twenty minutes passed before Andrew came back out of the house.”

“You saw Robilio’s brother-in-law come out of the house?”

“Yeah.” He glanced at me suspiciously. “The brother-in-law, Andrew. I immediately figured that maybe Robilio had told him about my offer to distort the custody recommendation and that Andrew was going to report me to the judge and get me yanked off the custody case and my leverage would be gone. I thought the game was up right then. I’d lose everything, including my psychology license.”

“But you waited to talk with Robilio anyway?”

“Why not? I was about to lose my daughter, and likely my license to practice psychology. What else did I have to lose? But Robilio wouldn’t answer the door. I figured he had seen my car, knew I was waiting and didn’t want to see me again.”

“You didn’t leave then, did you?”

“Huh? They know that, too? I wondered if I had left any fingerprints back there. I guess I did. Yeah, I didn’t leave. I went around back. If he wouldn’t open the door, I’d yell at him through the window if I could find him. I don’t have much pride left, Alan. But I didn’t find him anywhere. I went home.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“Do you think Andrew killed him?”

“Andrew? What? No. I got the impression he was killed much later. Why are you asking me that? Merritt killed him, didn’t she?”

The circle of irony was complete. Trent thought Merritt had murdered Robilio. Merritt thought Trent had.

When I arrived at Children’s, Merritt was prowling the unit like a big cat in a small cage. Pacing, she seemed to be traversing the width of the dayroom in only two strides. I was barely able to get my key out of the lock on the door before she was in my face.

I pointed at the consultation room. “Go have a seat, I’ll be right in.” I had to fight a smile as she stamped her left foot in frustration at having to wait for news even a few moments longer.

I checked with the nursing staff and read the chart notes that had been added since my barely legible middle-of-the-night scrawls. Routine stuff, other than the fact that Merritt’s silence was a thing of the past. She was chattering now to anyone who would listen, mostly wanting to know what was going on with Chaney.

Her hands were in the pockets of her jeans. This T-shirt was black and read USA. She said, “Well?”

“It looks good. Nothing’s final. The money’s been approved for the procedure. The doctors are all discussing Chaney’s condition. They want to be certain she’s still a good candidate.”

Merritt sat and anxiety drained from her. If her tension were liquid, there would have been a pond on the floor between us. “She’ll go. I feel it.” She touched the center of her chest with her closed fist.