Robin Cook - Marker

For a moment, Laurie looked back and forth between John's gaunt face and Peter's. The last thing she wanted to do was make things any worse for Peter, so she refrained from telling John what she thought of him. Instead, she turned around and walked out of the lab.

As Laurie climbed the stairs, she felt more depressed than she had earlier. She hated run-ins with people, particularly people she had to work with. They often lead to inappropriate emotional responses like the one she'd had earlier with Calvin, although on this occasion with John, anger was ascendant. Thinking of Calvin, she vaguely wondered what the fallout would be, since John invariably made good on his threats. She thought the chances were good that she'd hear from the deputy chief, and what that would mean, she had no idea. She truly hoped she hadn't caused any long-term problem for Peter, since he had to deal with John on a daily basis.

Entering her office, Laurie closed the door behind her. She hung up her coat and noticed Riva's hanging on its hook, which meant Riva was down in either the ID office or the autopsy room. Laurie sat down and thought about the telephone call she had to make. She'd been dreading it since the pregnancy test had been positive. In her mind, it was as if the process of making the call would finally and ultimately confirm the reality of her being pregnant. She had been trying to deny it to some degree, because of how big a mistake it was. As much as she wanted to have children, this was not the time, and she questioned what had gone through her mind to allow her to take the risk. Even though it was only a few weeks ago, she truly couldn't remember.

Reaching for the phone, Laurie reluctantly placed the call to the Manhattan General Hospital. As the connection went through, she looked down at the material from the Queens cases, which she needed to add to her matrix, along with the case Jack was currently doing.

When the operator came on the line, Laurie asked to be connected with Dr. Laura Riley's office. As the extension began to ring, Laurie was thankful that Sue happened to fix her up with a GYN doctor who also did OB. In the current medical malpractice milieu, that certainly was not always the case.

When Dr. Riley's scheduling secretary answered, Laurie explained her situation. She found herself stumbling over her words when she revealed she was pregnant according to an OTC test kit.

"Well, in that case, we certainly cannot wait until September," the secretary said brightly. "Dr. Riley likes to see her obstetrics patients at eight to ten weeks after the last period. Where are you?"

"It's been about seven weeks," Laurie said.

"Then we should see you next week or the week after." There was a pause. Laurie realized that her hand holding the phone was trembling.

"How about next Friday?" the secretary said, coming back on the line. "That's a week from today, at one-thirty."

"That will be fine," Laurie said. "Thank you for squeezing me in."

"My pleasure. Now, can I have your name?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize I didn't give it to you. I'm Dr. Laurie Montgomery."

"Dr. Montgomery! I remember you. I spoke with you yesterday."

Laurie winced. Her secret was now quasi-public. Even though she had never met the secretary, the woman now knew a terribly private, intimate detail about her life that Laurie had not yet decided how she was going to handle. Difficult choices would have to be made.

"Congratulations!" the secretary continued. "Hold the line! I'm sure that Dr. Riley would want to say hello."

Without a chance to respond, Laurie found herself on hold, listening to music. For a brief moment, she thought about hanging up, but she decided she couldn't do it. To keep her mind in check, she looked down at the stack of death certificates and investigative reports from Queens. Anxious for a diversion, she picked up the first and began reading. The patient's name was Kristin Svensen, age twenty-three, who had been admitted to St. Francis Hospital for a hemorrhoidectomy. Laurie shook her head at the dimensions of the tragedy. It made her problems seem small compared to the death of a healthy young woman in a hospital after having her hemorrhoids removed.

"Dr. Montgomery! I just heard the good news. Congratulations."

"You can call me Laurie."

"Fair enough, and you can call me Laura."

"I'm not sure congratulations are in order. To be perfectly frank, this is an unexpected and rather an inconvenient surprise for me, so I'm not sure how I feel about it."

"I see," said Laura, reigning in her exuberance. Then, with sensitivity born of experience, she added, "We still have to make sure you and the conceptus are as healthy as possible. Have there been any problems?"

"A bit of morning sickness, but it's been very transient." Laurie found herself uncomfortable talking about the pregnancy and wanted to get off the line.

"Let us know if it gets any worse. There are lots of suggestions for dealing with it in the thousands of pregnancy books available. As for books, my advice is to stay away from the most conservative ones, because they'll drive you crazy, thinking you can't do anything, like take a hot bath. With that said, we'll see you next Friday."

Laurie thanked her and hung up the phone. It was a relief to get the call behind her. Picking up the computer printouts of the cases from Queens, she tapped them against the surface of her desk to align them. The motion caused an almost subliminal unpleasant sensation in the same location where she'd had the pain while down in the locker room. She wondered if she should have at least mentioned the feeling and pain to Laura Riley. She thought she should have, but wasn't about to call her back. Instead, she'd bring it up during her appointment, unless it became frequent or intense enough to warrant a call. She also wondered if she should have mentioned about being positive for the BRCA1 marker, but as with the discomfort, she decided it would be perfectly appropriate to discuss it on her first visit.

With the papers in one hand, Laurie reached for the phone again, but then hesitated with her hand on the receiver. She had it in her mind to call Roger for several reasons, not the least of which was feeling guilty about leaving him in the dark about what must have seemed strange behavior in his office. But she didn't know what she was going to say. She wasn't yet willing to tell him the whole truth for a number of reasons, but she knew she would have to say something. Ultimately, she decided she'd use the BRCA1 issue, as she'd already done.

Laurie picked up the phone and dialed Roger's direct line. What was really motivating her was her desire to take copies of the Queens materials over to him so she could talk with him directly about them. Despite the turmoil in her mind from her personal problems, she'd come up with an idea about the cases from Queens that might possibly solve the mystery of SADS.

WHEN LAURIE GOT OVER TO the Manhattan General Hospital, she was ushered directly into Roger's office, where he was waiting for her. The first thing he did was close the door. Then he gave her a sustained, silent hug. Laurie hugged him back, but not with equivalent ardor. On top of the residuals from the marriage flap, she knew she wasn't going to be entirely forthright with him about her own situation, and it made her feel self-conscious. If he noticed her restraint, he didn't mention it. After the embrace, he turned his two straight-backed chairs around to face each other just as he had done the day before. He had Laurie sit in one, and he took the other.

"I'm glad to see you," he said. "I missed you last night." He was leaning forward into her space with his hands clasped and his elbows on his knees. Laurie was close enough to smell his aftershave lotion. His day was just beginning. His fresh shirt still had the telltale creases from the laundry box.