Madeline’s lips twitched. “Somehow I find it hard to think of you as a puppy. But yes, I’ve thought of that. I’ll be among people every minute. I won’t even go to the ladies’ room alone. You and FI can post security guards at every hospital entrance I use. You can even make periodic strolls through the halls and watch me. Marc, I will not be a prisoner forever. Who knows when this ordeal will be over? I can’t live like a princess in a tower anymore. Of course I’m scared. I already told you that. But work will take my mind off my fear. I’ll be busy, and I’ll be helping people. That’s what I was trained to do.”
With that, her chin came up like a warrior entering battle. “I’ll be reporting for my shift at 8:00 a.m. Patrick is arranging the necessary security as we speak. They’ll be discreet, so no one will know I’m being guarded. As for Jacob, I’ve already notified him. He’s less than thrilled, but he has no basis to prevent me from returning. So that’s that.”
Marc had to smile. She looked so damned cute when she was dictatorial. And yeah, he was pissed, but he had to admire her determination. He also had to admit to himself that, were he in her shoes, he’d do the same thing.
His knuckles caressed her cheek. “You’re a pain in the ass, do you know that?”
“Then we’re well-matched,” she replied. “Because so are you.”
“You know I’ll be living at that hospital whenever you’re working.”
“I never doubted it.” Madeline relaxed and slid her body over his. “I think we’ve argued enough for now.”
“I agree.” He pulled her more firmly over him. “Let’s make up.”
25
IT WAS PREDAWN the next morning when Aidan’s software broke the encryption code for 266.
The contents were labeled Valerie Pintar. It provided her full name, address, contact information, position at Manhattan Memorial, date of employment, date of termination of employment, yada, yada, yada.
Aidan skipped down past the basic specs, and he rolled his eyes when he saw that the entire top section of her file was a sexual performance evaluation. The second section was an explicit physical description of Valerie naked, including a couple of photos. Next came a list of all the dates of her and Ronald’s liaisons. There were quite a few. The guy was obviously a busy boy.
The file went on to do a comprehensive write-up of Ronald’s sexual fantasies with regard to Valerie and what she did to satisfy them.
And last and finally somewhat interesting was a summary of the steps Ronald had taken to end the affair, together with a payout schedule of the hospital money he’d been availing himself of to ensure Valerie’s silence.
“So much for true love,” Aidan muttered under his breath. He was more amused than anything else. He’d seen it all, decrypted international secrets that could make or break empires. The sex life of Ronald Lexington was less than exciting—although he was sure that Forensic Instincts would care about the embezzling part.
The other annoying factor here, given that only Valerie’s file had been decrypted, was that Lexington had clearly set up different encryption keys for each file. That was going to make this process more time-consuming and a bigger pain in the ass than Aidan had hoped. And Jesus, he hoped it was worth it and the jerk hadn’t just done repeats of his sexual exploits, assigning a different encryption key to each woman he’d screwed.
“Daddy, I’m up. Don’t work.” Abby ran into the room, and scrambled onto her father’s lap. “Can we play?”
“At 5:00 a.m.? Sure, imp. I’d love nothing better,” Aidan replied.
Quickly, he texted Ryan, and then emailed everything to him.
Then he went off to do the Barbie thing with Abby.
* * *
Ryan liked his sleep.
But when he was in the middle of a case, that went by the wayside.
He heard his cell phone bing, followed by a trilling sound from his email.
Rolling over, he reached for his iPhone. He scanned Aidan’s text and then opened the email, scanning its contents.
“Holy shit,” he muttered. “Smut and stealing all at once.”
Jumping out of bed, Ryan headed for the shower. Simultaneously he called Casey. He knew her well enough to know that he’d be expected in the office, armed with info, yesterday.
Twenty minutes later, he was on his way.
* * *
Casey was a busy woman that morning.
When Ryan came in, Marc was already perched at the conference room table. He’d just told her that Madeline was headed back to work in a few hours, and she’d responded by telling him that Casper had offered to fire Conrad and Madeline to settle the lawsuit.
“Shit,” Marc had said. “How do you know?”
“The bug in Nancy Lexington’s house. Ryan listened to the conversation. She boasted about it to her kids.”
“Shit,” he said again. “Madeline is walking into a hornet’s nest.”
“I’ve got news,” Ryan announced, interrupting the conversation. “I got a text from Aidan.” He handed Casey the pages he’d printed out. “One file. One woman. One unique encryption key. That part sucks. This, on the other hand, makes for fascinating reading.”
“A naked woman in erotic positions?” Casey commented drily as she scanned the first few pages. “Porn isn’t usually your style, Ryan.”
“Keep reading.”
Marc had gone around behind Casey to read over her shoulder.
“Valerie Pintar. That’s one of the names Janet mentioned—an employee who slept with Ronald and got fired for it,” Casey said, reading on.
“Now this is interesting,” Marc commented, pointing as they got to the embezzlement part. “Far from shocking, but interesting. So Ronald Lexington wasn’t just a womanizer. He was a thief.”
Casey looked up. “What did you mean when you said, ‘That sucks’?”
“Aidan is telling us that he only cracked this one numerical file. That means that Ronald has a different encryption key for each file, which makes his and our jobs that much harder.”
“Each encryption key has to be broken separately,” Marc murmured.
“Exactly. And who knows how the hell long that will take?”
“You’re right,” Casey said. “That sucks. We have no time for a setback.” Her eyes rose to meet Ryan’s. “I want you to access the human resources database at the hospital. Search every bit of material available for Valerie Pintar. See if you can find any connection between her and the number 266—her birthday, social security number—anything.”
“Already under way,” Ryan replied. “But this could well be a dead end. The numbers could be random or they could be things the records would never show—like Valerie and Ronald’s first date, the hotel room number from their first night together, their first-month anniversary....”
“I get it, but try. In the meantime, it’s my turn. I don’t give a damn how much turmoil the hospital’s in. I’m scheduling that dinner with Janet Moss. I want to pump her for information about any more of Ronald’s paramours she knows of. I want to hear the ideas she might have regarding personal vendettas these women could have concerning Ronald’s death.”
“This might blow your cover,” Marc pointed out.
“It might. But I’ll try to elicit her help as an ally. We’ll see how that flies.”
* * *
Emergency board meetings were becoming a regular part of hospital procedure, Janet thought as she filed into the conference room.
This time the meeting was a tactical one since Nancy’s lawsuit was going to trial. Jacob and the team of lawyers were instructed by the board to start the legal process of discovery.
Every one of Conrad’s surgeries would be peer-reviewed by experts using a fine-tooth comb. The hospital’s surgical procedures, safety records, health code violations,
etc., were all fair game. If Ronald Lexington’s widow wouldn’t settle, then Manhattan Memorial would prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that Lexington’s death was not the hospital’s fault.
The lawyers were instructed by the board to throw anyone they needed to under the bus—Conrad, Madeline, any one of their employees who could be personally blamed for Ronald’s death. Whatever was necessary for the hospital to avoid responsibility. The sooner this went to trial, the better.
Janet was ordered to call an urgent management team meeting to alert them to what was about to occur and how it should be handled.
She got on it the instant the board meeting broke up.
* * *
Two hours later, Janet and Jacob closeted themselves in a smaller conference room, this time with the entire hospital management team. It was standing room only. Jacob explained the details of the situation to them and demanded their cooperation. The hospital would stand unified in its efforts to defend its stellar reputation.
Every department was given its role.
Sharon Gilding, the hastily appointed temporary chief of surgery, was told to make sure personally that everything in her department was double-and triple-checked. No lapses in paperwork. They would be under a continuous microscope until the lawsuit was over.
The head of security was instructed to hire a private investigator to delve into Ronald Lexington and his entire family, gathering anything that could undermine Nancy Lexington’s lawsuit. Jacob stressed that he and the hospital’s legal team would expect daily briefings.
The IT director was told to assign someone to work with the legal team—someone who was qualified enough to give them free access and get them everything they asked for.
The most qualified person was selected for the job.
Roger Lewis.
* * *
Patrick was stationed right outside the main hospital entrance.
Madeline walked past him as if she didn’t know him and pushed the hospital’s revolving doors, stepping inside and circling around until she entered the building.
For a long moment, she just stood there, absorbing the feeling of being back where she belonged. It had only been a couple of weeks, but it had felt like an eternity. The antiseptic smell. The fast-paced activity. The constant paging of doctors and surgeons over the PA system.
Manhattan Memorial was like her second home.
It didn’t feel that way for long.
Madeline had barely crossed the lobby floor when staff members began coming to a halt and staring at her. She smiled and said hello, and was greeted with stony silence. No welcome-backs. No how-do-you-feels. No smiles or waves. Just icy glares and silence.
Feeling a chill creep up her spine, Madeline walked to the elevators and pressed the button for the E.R., one level up from the main lobby. There were a handful of people already waiting in the elevator corridor.
Everyone except the visitors shut down the second she arrived, silently staring at her with those cold looks before turning to whisper among themselves.
Taking the stairs seemed suddenly more appealing.
Madeline’s gut twisted as she climbed to the second floor. She’d expected tons of questions, even more anxiety and maybe some resentment. But this total snubbing? This leashed anger that every staff member seemed to share?
And it wasn’t just the lobby. Nor was it just the nurses.
The E.R. doctors were terse and frosty, speaking to her only as necessary and giving her as little to do as possible. The mixed group of employees who’d always been her friends—from surgeons to candy stripers and everyone in between—wanted nothing to do with her. Even the friggin’ receptionists gave her dismissive looks and went back to work.
What in God’s name had Jacob Casper told them? Madeline wondered later as she sat alone in the break room for a cup of coffee, and staff members strolled in and out, glancing at her and then quickly looking away. She felt like a pariah, isolated and invisible in her own workplace.
Not really invisible, not to everyone. There was definite anger in many of their faces, bitter conversation and eyes shooting daggers in her direction.
Clearly she’d been set up to take the fall, being blamed as the culprit for the predicament the hospital was in. And with Conrad away, she was taking that fall all by herself.
No way.
Madeline set down her unfinished cup of coffee and took her tray to the trash and recyclable area. Her shock and hurt had started to ebb and transform into anger. This was ridiculous. If Jacob thought she was going to slink off like some guilty child who’d broken a family heirloom, he had something else coming.
She marched into the administrative wing and through the doors that led to the executive offices.
Sue, the receptionist, was cataloging some data sheets.
“May I help you?” she asked without looking up.
“Yes, Sue, you can.” Madeline waited until the receptionist’s head had popped up, an awkward expression crossing her face.
“Madeline.”
“It’s nice to know someone remembers my name,” Madeline said. “Good to see you. Now I’d like to see Jacob.”
Sue fidgeted in her seat. “He has back-to-back meetings all day long.”
“Fine.” Madeline walked over and sank down into one of the waiting area chairs. She crossed her legs and picked up a magazine. “I’ll wait.” A pointed pause. “For as long as I have to.” She turned to the magazine’s table of contents.
“But...” Sue was clearly out of her depth. She picked up the phone and pressed an extension, speaking quietly to the person at the other end.
Madeline didn’t need to guess who that person was.
Sure enough, the door next to Jacob’s opened, and Janet walked out.
“Madeline,” she said cordially. “I didn’t think you had healed enough to come back yet.”
“Yet? Or at all?” Madeline gave her a bright smile. “There have certainly been some changes since I left.”
Janet’s expression was frosty. “Well, as you know, we’re in the middle of a crisis.”
“I’m very well aware of that.” Madeline rose. “I’d like to discuss that very crisis with Jacob. And he must be between meetings because I distinctly heard his voice through the office door. He must be on the phone.”
“If he is, then he’s far too busy to see you.”
“Let’s ask him ourselves.”
Before Janet could stop her, Madeline strode over to Jacob’s closed door. She skipped knocking and just turned the knob and pushed open the door.
She stepped inside, Janet hot on her heels.
“What is it?” Jacob snapped without looking up.
“It’s me, Jacob,” Madeline replied. “It’s time that you and I had a little talk.”
26
JACOB’S HEAD CAME up, and he stared at Madeline warily.
“It’s your first day back, Madeline,” he said, recovering his authoritative demeanor. “I assumed you’d be busy reacquainting yourself with the E.R. patients and with your responsibilities. Besides, we have nothing to talk about.” He shot Janet a dark look. “Please show Madeline out. And I’d appreciate if you and Sue would do a better job of screening my visitors.”
Madeline shook off Janet’s hand as soon as it touched her arm. She was getting angrier and angrier as the moments passed.
“No one is escorting me anywhere,” she informed Jacob. “I’m not leaving this office until we’ve spoken. How long that takes to accomplish is up to you.” She turned to Janet. “You can leave now.”
Uncertainty flashed across Janet’s face. She glanced from Madeline to Jacob.
“Go.” Jacob waved her away. “And shut the door behind you. I’ll handle this. The last thing this hospital needs is another scene.”
r /> Reluctantly, Janet did as she was told—although Madeline was quite certain that the gossipmonger was standing outside with her ear pressed tightly against the door.
“Sit down, Madeline,” Jacob said.
He reached into his drawer and pulled out a hand-size digital recorder, showing it to her and then turning it on. He placed it in the center of his desk. “I’m taping this conversation. Our lawyers would recommend it.”
“Record away,” Madeline replied, waving her arm. She pulled out the chair directly across from Jacob’s desk and sat stiffly at the edge.
“What is it you want?”
“To know what you relayed to the entire hospital staff about me. Because whatever that was, it’s succeeded in alienating me to the point where no one will even look at me except with resentment. Did you tell them I’m the entire reason that Nancy Lexington initiated a lawsuit?”
“I told them the truth.”
“And what truth is that? That you offered to unload Conrad and me as a settlement prize?”
He started. “Who told you that?”
“Does it matter? I know. Or are you denying it?”
“I’m denying nothing. I did what I had to do to save this hospital.”
“You mean to preserve your future.” Madeline’s eyes blazed. “Why didn’t the offer to kick Conrad and me out work, Jacob? Wasn’t it enough? Did Nancy Lexington want more—like a larger fortune and the total ruin of the hospital—on top of having Conrad’s and my heads?”
Jacob was clearly thrown by how much Madeline knew. He swiveled around to his computer and punched some buttons. A few seconds later, his printer fired up and printed a two-page memo.
“This is the entirety of what’s been shared with the staff.” He handed the memo to Madeline. “You can call it up on your own computer, but here it is in black-and-white. Now you’ll be fully informed and you can leave my office.”
Madeline glanced down and scanned the memo.
It began by informing the staff that Manhattan Memorial was the target of a medical malpractice wrongful death lawsuit, initiated by Nancy Lexington. No details were disclosed, except the names of the accused. That list was several lines long, including the whole cardiac unit as well as the whole surgical team.