Josh nodded without looking up. He got up and left, leaving Bowman standing at the window.
* * *
Kelly Frock had no idea what Dr. Hench had in mind. He had asked her to come back to his office immediately this morning. It was about a quarter past nine when she took a break from doing nursing notes and slipped out of the unit and into the stairwell. She went down two flights until she reached the office wing of Ford. The corridor seemed a different place from the normal chaos of the day. At the end of the hall, a janitor polished the vinyl floor with a power buffer.
The door to Dr. Hench's office was closed so she tapped on it gently.
"Come in, Kelly."
Chapter 17
Arthur Hench was still steaming
as he slammed the door to his office. His confrontation with Kelly Frock had been the last straw. He had hoped for her cooperation, instead she tried to convince him Logan had nothing to do with Cynthia Harwell's outcome. The more he tried to sway her in his direction, the more resistant she became. Finally, he relented, deciding she was no obstacle, anyway. He was going to see that Josh Logan was gone from Ford before he ruined everything Hench had worked so hard to establish. With Bowman's cooperation he had brought Ford to its present status of the most respected research institute in the western United States if not the entire country. But Logan didn't understand. With his Boy Scout ethics and conservative approach to medicine, he was like poison to Hench.
With an angry determination, Hench picked up the phone and dialed the medical records department.
After a few rings someone on the other end picked up. "Medical records."
"Yes, this is Dr. Hench. I need the records for all of Dr. Logan's patients since he arrived here.
"Did you say,
all?"
"That's right,
all.
And I want them in my office by tomorrow morning. Everything."
When Hench hung up the phone, he was certain of one thing. By tomorrow afternoon, Josh Logan would be gone from the Ford Institute. He may be Bowman's boy wonder,but Hench knew given the choice between Logan and the money Hench was bringing in for Ford, it was no contest. Logan was history.
As for Ms. Frock,
Hench thought.
I've got plans for her, too.
* * *
In the corner of his office, Lawrence Bowman stood at his window and stared into the Arizona morning. The meeting with Hench and Logan had been deeply troubling. He raked his hand across his skull and tried to assemble the pieces in his mind.
"Dr. Bowman?" his secretary said, knocking gently. "You have a phone call."
"Not now," Bowman said absently.
"It's the Governor."
Bowman wheeled. "Okay. Put him through right away."
Chapter 18
Marty Branigan glanced at her
watch as she went through the turnstile at the Phoenix Mall in Scottsdale. It was a few minutes before seven P.M. She knew she would be on time or only a minute late, but she still hurried. She pushed through the crowd milling about the Starbuck's kiosk, glanced at her watch again, then settled into a half-run half-walk for the short distance to the escalator.
Pausing to catch her breath before stepping off, Marty glanced across to the front of The Three Kings restaurant. She knew about the awards it had won from food critics, but she'd never been inside. This date with Josh would be her second. Fancy dining was not her MO, but Josh had insisted and with minimal arm-twisting, she had agreed.
With her breathing now back to normal, Marty opened the door and entered, nearly running over the maitre d.
"I'm Marty Branigan, I'm here to meet Dr. Logan."
While the maitre d looked at his book, Marty wrestled with her thick hair, all the time telling herself there was no need to be nervous. After all, she'd been out with Josh once before. The problem was, this time he had called on the spur of the moment to say he "needed" her to come to dinner and that it was "urgent."
A minute later, a vibrant young woman came up. "Right this way, Ms. Branigan. Dr. Logan is waiting."
As Marty followed the hostess through the main part of the restaurant, her anxiety shot up a notch. She didn't like the sound of "waiting." She wondered what this was all about.
The hostess led Marty out onto a trellised terrace that was crowded with diners. Josh was sitting at a wrought-iron settee in the corner.
"I'm sorry I'm late," Marty said as she sat down.
"You're not late, besides, it's not a business meeting."
"Well, I couldn't tell from your phone call, it sounded pretty serious to me."
"I'm sorry if I alarmed you. I just had a bad morning and I really needed someone to relax with."
"I'm flattered that you thought of me."
"To be totally honest, I really wanted to see you, just to see you. But there is this other thing. I need your help." Josh leaned toward her.
"Me? A brilliant surgeon like you needs my help? Now I am flattered."
The waiter brought two glasses of red wine and Josh took a long sip of his.
"Marty, remember the first time we met? At Ford a few weeks ago."
"Yeah, sure. What about it?"
"You said you were checking into Ford's connection with Aurora Life Extension."
"Yes, I still am. It's a big story. One I intend to bring to fruition. I hope you didn't bring me here to talk me out of doing my investigation."
"No. Quite the contrary. This morning, I had a big go-round with Hench and Dr. Bowman. It seems Hence had one of my patients sent to Aurora without even telling me. Worse yet, he;t even tell the family."
For a moment Marty didn't say anything as she concentrated on her wine. Then, "Okay, how can I help?"
"I'd like to have any information you have at all about Hench. I have a meeting with Bowman tomorrow and I'd like to have some ammunition to use against Hench."
"I can do that, except I'll have to email you everything in the morning. I have to go to Tucson tonight after I leave here--"
"Tucson?'
"Yes. Haven't you heard? Governor Teaks' daughter was killed in a car accident last evening. I have to go down there and cover the story."
"Jesus, that's awful. I didn't know."
"Yeah. From what I understand, there wasn't much left of her."
The waiter returned ready to take their orders.
Josh looked over at Marty. "Are you still hungry?"
"No. I don't feel much like eating now."
Chapter 19
"I'm sorry, Josh, it's the
only thing I can do right now till we sort out this mess."
"Dr. Bowman, I assure you I followed every guideline there is for giving that drug. Every single dose is documented per the protocol."
"I believe you Josh. But I still have to investigate it. The patient suffered a massive seizure not three hours after you administered the drug."
"And why is this just coming to light now? Seems mighty convenient that it came on the heels of my rift with Hench."
"Dr. Logan, I don't know what you're suggesting, but I have told you before, Arthur Hench is one of the finest doctors I know."
"Yeah, I know. I've heard it before."
"Besides, if you know you did everything by the book, there won't be any problem. Just look at it as a mini vacation. We usually settle these things in a week or two."
Josh turned and stared out the window at the grounds of the Ford Institute. He felt the urge to just tell Bowman to forget the job and resign, but he knew whatever Hench had cooked up to get rid of him, he had to discredit. When he'd come in this morning, planning to head to the OR, he'd received a page from Dr. Bowman's office. When he inquired over the in-house phone, Bowman had somberly replied, "
Come down to the office, Josh, we'll talk there."
Now, standing in Bowman's office, he felt like the proverbial sacrificial lamb. He'd complained about Hench. So Hench countered by questioning Josh's judgment in administering a potent neurological drug.
One that now apparently was implicated in Cynthia Harwell's death.
And though Josh knew nothing would come of it since he had followed protocol to a tee, it was Hench's way of throwing around his clout. Bowman was insisting that he take a leave of absence.
"So when can I come back? Josh asked.
"I'll have to call you. I'm sure it won't be long. I'll talk to Arthur. I think you just ruffled his feathers. I'm sure he'll let this go if I talk to him."
* * *
Marty Branigan stood to the back of the Tucson General Hospital cafeteria and tried to be inconspicuous. She'd come to investigate the death of the Governor's daughter. Three days earlier, the child had been killed in a horrific car accident a few miles from Tucson. Being who she was of course was front-page news, especially for the Phoenix Sun, known for running stories that catered to the public's morbid curiosity about anything related to death. Marty didn't particularly like that reputation, but the paper was the only one willing to give her a job when rsquo;d arrived two years earlier. Since that time she'd worked her way up to become a first class investigative reporter. Her tenacity always took her in directions she didn't always anticipate. Such was the case with the governor's child.
When Marty had first called the hospital in Tucson, she got the usual run around about confidentiality and patient's privacy rights. But as usual, also, Marty could always find a willing nurse or doctor who felt talking to a news reporter was an obligation. Marty started with the usual questions about the girl's accident, how long she lived afterwards, family's reaction, and any other news-worthy comments they thought might enhance the story. Marty thanked her pigeon for the information and shut off the tape recorder and prepared to leave the hospital. Soon her journalistic bells were going off.
Then the oddest thing occurred.
A scrub-clad nurse strode up to Marty and handed her a piece of paper. She hurried away as fast as she'd appeared and vanished down a corridor somewhere. Marty gazed down at the paper. She felt her legs go weak. Then she looked again.
That's impossible!
Just then, the sound of a code blue over the loudspeaker system jerked Marty from her thoughts as she stood in the hall just outside the lunchroom.
* * *
Slipping quietly away from Bowman's office, Josh navigated the web of hallways across Ford, wondering if he'd come all the way to Arizona for nothing. If he lost his job here, his dreams would be lost, everything he'd hoped for, gone. Ahead of him, he could see the glass enclosure of the operating theater, where he'd envisioned himself making groundbreaking discoveries alongside Lawrence Bowman. Sadly it seemed, that was not to be. The empty hallways seemed to echo with the hollow voices of distant memories. Josh tried to ignore them.
Don't do this,
he told himself. They often haunted him, when he needed someone to talk to.
She'd comfort you,
the voice whispered. Stopping at a window, he looked out and felt himself reeling backward into oblivion.
Lori Waters had been his sweetheart in medical school. Christmas was her favorite time of the year. The year after they met, he took her ice-skating in New York on Christmas Eve. When the cashier handed Lori her skates, attached to the front of them was a small box from Tiffany's. Lori understood immediately. With tears in her eyes she simply said, "Yes." Josh Logan was the happiest he'd ever been.
Filled with hope, Josh graduated the following year, while Lori opted to quit medical school and hopefully start a family. They bought a modest house in Maryland and married the following year.
Six months later, Lori and Josh were biking along the C&O canal, when Lori began complaining of dizziness and double vision. They ignored it and it seemed fine for a while, but three weeks later, Lori fell while cooking dinner. This time she went and had it checked out.
In an instant, Josh's ideal life became a living nightmare. Lori was ill.
Terminally ill.
Lou Gehrig's disease. It would slowly rob her of her ability to function and eventually, even to breath.
Josh consulted numerous doctors and specialists, but the answer was always the same.
Three years tops. If she's lucky.
Almost three years later to the day, Josh found himself sitting next to his dying wife in a stark nursing home room. Before she died, she shocked Josh with an even more devastating revelation.
She was pregnant.
They had been cautious with their intimacy, but Lori insisted they try to maintain as normal a relationship as they could for the short time they had left. And though she didn't say it, Josh knew Lori was trying to make it her final gift to him. A way to maintain a connection after she wa gone. Though Josh knew, from his own research into the disease, that her odds of giving birth to a healthy baby were practically zero, he didn't have the heart to tell her. In her final months, it was all she had to keep her going.
On her final day, a mere shell of her former self, Lori pulled Josh close.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "It wasn't to be."
Lori died on a snow covered Christmas morning. Josh Logan felt like a lost soul at the gates of purgatory, not sure which way was up or down. For weeks he wept.
Get your self together,
he finally realized.
Do it for Lori.
Hardening his resolve, Josh decided to leave the medical center and go where he'd always wanted. He'd read about the Ford Institute and their groundbreaking cures, and instantly he knew that was where he wanted to be. With Lori gone, he spent a year boning up on his surgical skills, then set out to contact Ford. Josh was ready for a change.
The grand entrance for the Ford Institute loomed below the window where Josh now stood, pulling him from his painful memories. He shook off the chill of his reverie and took a closer look. A stark white van came through the gates and drove toward the rear of the building. Josh stared a long moment at the vehicle and felt his pulse quicken.