“It’s not right,” Avery objected.
“Excuse me?” Bettencourt frowned at the old man.
“You can’t just fire her. She’s a physician. There are channels you have to go through. Committees—”
“I’m well acquainted with the proper channels, Clarence! I was hoping Dr. Chesne would grasp the situation and act appropriately.” He looked at her. “It really is easier, you know. There’d be no blot on your record. Just a notation that you resigned. I can have a letter typed up within the hour. All it takes is your…” His voice trailed off as he saw the look in her eyes.
Kate seldom got angry. She usually managed to keep her emotions under tight control. So the fury she now felt churning to the surface was something new and unfamiliar and almost frightening. With deadly calm she said, “Save yourself the paper, Mr. Bettencourt.”
His jaw clicked shut. “If that’s your decision…” He glanced at Avery. “When is the next Quality Assurance meeting?”
“It’s—uh, next Tuesday, but—”
“Put the O’Brien case on the agenda. We’ll let Dr. Chesne present her record to committee.” He looked at Kate. “A judgment by your peers. I’d say that’s fair. Wouldn’t you?”
She managed to swallow her retort. If she said anything else, if she let fly what she really thought of George Bettencourt, she’d ruin her chances of ever again working at Mid Pac. Or anywhere else, for that matter. All he had to do was slap her with the label Troublemaker; it would blacken her record for the rest of her life.
They parted civilly. For a woman who’d just had her career ripped to shreds, she managed a grand performance. She gave Bettencourt a level look, a cool handshake. She kept her composure all the way out the door and on the long walk down the carpeted hall. But as she rode the elevator down, something inside her seemed to snap. By the time the doors slid open again, she was shaking violently. As she walked blindly through the noise and bustle of the lobby, the realization hit her full force.
Dear God, I’m being sued. Less than a year in practice and I’m being sued….
She’d always thought that lawsuits, like all life’s catastrophes, happened to other people. She’d never dreamed she’d be the one charged with incompetence. Incompetence.
Suddenly feeling sick, she swayed against the lobby telephones. As she struggled to calm her stomach, her gaze fell on the local directory, hanging by a chain from the shelf. If only they knew the facts, she thought. If I could explain to them…
It took only seconds to find the listing: Uehara and Ransom, Attorneys at Law. Their office was on Bishop Street.
She wrenched out the page. Then, driven by a new and desperate hope, she hurried out the door.
“MR. RANSOM IS unavailable.”
The gray-haired receptionist had eyes of pure cast iron and a face straight out of American Gothic. All she needed was the pitchfork. Crossing her arms, she silently dared the intruder to try—just try—to talk her way in.
“But I have to see him!” Kate insisted. “It’s about the case—”
“Of course it is,” the woman said dryly.
“I only want to explain to him—”
“I’ve just told you, Doctor. He’s in a meeting with the associates. He can’t see you.”
Kate’s impatience was simmering close to the danger point. She leaned forward on the woman’s desk and managed to say with polite fury, “Meetings don’t last forever.”
The receptionist smiled. “This one will.”
Kate smiled back. “Then so can I.”
“Doctor, you’re wasting your time! Mr. Ransom never meets with defendants. Now, if you need an escort to find your way out, I’ll be happy to—” She glanced around in annoyance as the telephone rang. Grabbing the receiver, she snapped, “Uehara and Ransom! Yes? Oh, yes, Mr. Matheson!” She pointedly turned her back on Kate. “Let’s see, I have those files right here…”
In frustration, Kate glanced around at the waiting room, noting the leather couch, the Ikebana of willow and proteus, the Murashige print hanging on the wall. All exquisitely tasteful and undoubtedly expensive. Obviously, Uehara and Ransom was doing a booming business. All off the blood and sweat of doctors, she thought in disgust.
The sound of voices suddenly drew Kate’s attention. She turned and saw, just down the hall, a small army of young men and women emerging from a conference room. Which one was Ransom? She scanned the faces but none of the men looked old enough to be a senior partner in the firm. She glanced back at the desk and saw that the receptionist still had her back turned. It was now or never.
It took Kate only a split-second to make her decision. Swiftly, deliberately, she moved toward the conference room. But in the doorway she came to a halt, her eyes suddenly dazzled by the light.
A long teak table stretched out before her. Along either side, a row of leather chairs stood like soldiers at attention. Blinding sunshine poured in through the southerly windows, spilling across the head and shoulders of a lone man seated at the far end of the table. The light streaked his fair hair with gold. He didn’t notice her; all his attention was focused on a sheaf of papers lying in front of him. Except for the rustle of a page being turned, the room was absolutely silent.
Kate swallowed hard and drew herself up straight. “Mr. Ransom?”
The man looked up and regarded her with a neutral expression. “Yes? Who are you?”
“I’m—”
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Ransom!” cut in the receptionist’s outraged voice. Hauling Kate by the arm, the woman muttered through her teeth, “I told you he was unavailable. Now if you’ll come with me—”
“I only want to talk to him!”
“Do you want me to call security and have you thrown out?”
Kate wrenched her arm free. “Go ahead.”
“Don’t tempt me, you—”
“What the hell is going on here?” The roar of Ransom’s voice echoed in the vast room, shocking both women into silence. He aimed a long and withering look at Kate. “Just who are you?”
“Kate—” She paused and dropped her voice to what she hoped was a more dignified tone. “Doctor Kate Chesne.”
A pause. “I see.” He looked right back down at his papers and said flatly, “Show her out, Mrs. Pierce.”
“I just want to tell you the facts!” Kate persisted. She tried to hold her ground but the receptionist herded her toward the door with all the skill of a sheepdog. “Or would you rather not hear the facts, is that it? Is that how you lawyers operate?” He studiously ignored her. “You don’t give a damn about the truth, do you? You don’t want to hear what really happened to Ellen O’Brien!”
That made him look up sharply. His gaze fastened long and hard on her face. “Hold on, Mrs. Pierce. I’ve just changed my mind. Let Dr. Chesne stay.”
Mrs. Pierce was incredulous. “But—she could be violent!”
David’s gaze lingered a moment longer on Kate’s flushed face. “I think I can handle her. You can leave us, Mrs. Pierce.”
Mrs. Pierce muttered as she walked out. The door closed behind