“I’ve got to dictate this chart and get back to my patients,” Mercy said at last, still not looking at him. “How about a date Thursday night? Jarvis George has a lady friend who is giving him a ‘getting well’ party at his house.”
Lukas frowned at her. “You’re kidding, right? Do you think that’s a good idea? Don’t you think my presence will be detrimental to his recovery?”
Mercy picked up the phone. “Don’t be paranoid. He was so out of his mind last spring he probably doesn’t even remember you—or the extent to which he went to get rid of you.” She knew Lukas wouldn’t buy that. Sixty-five-year-old Jarvis George, the Knolls Community E.R. director, had opposed Mrs. Pinkley when she first hired Lukas. It hadn’t helped the situation when Jarvis, distracted by Lukas in an exam room, had accidentally stuck himself with a suture needle. The needle had been infected by a patient with undiagnosed tuberculosis.
“He remembers,” Lukas said. “I bet he still blames me.”
“Oh, come on, Lukas, it wasn’t your—”
“Not to mention the fact that the TB encephalitis couldn’t have kicked in until at least a couple of weeks later, during which time he used all the influence he could muster—”
“He was being manipulated by Bailey Little,” Mercy said. Everyone knew about the E.R. visit when Lukas had refused to give morphine to Bailey’s drug-seeking son, Dwayne. “Both men have lost a lot of points in this community,” she continued. “Especially Jarvis.” He had not only given the requested morphine but had allowed Dwayne to drive away high on the drug. As a result, Dwayne had been in a fatal automobile accident.
“So how about it, Lukas?” Mercy asked. “You’re off Thursday. I checked the schedule.”
“I guess I could try, but if Jarvis starts shooting the moment I walk in the door, I refuse to stay past the obligatory thirty minutes.”
“Wear your bulletproof vest, just in case.” Mercy held his gaze a little longer than necessary, simply because she loved having that connection with him. Then she dragged her mind away from what could have been if they weren’t both so busy. She punched her entry buttons and started dictation.
Lukas stood watching Mercy dictate her additional comments about Arthur. They had incorporated the “T-system” charting now, which did away with extensive dictation or handwritten notes, but the T-sheets didn’t cover everything. Lukas liked the fact that Mercy didn’t try to pigeonhole or computerize human beings. She often added extra notes to her files. She always did the extras for her patients, making them feel more like human beings and less like parts on an assembly line.
Lukas knew she was that way with every relationship in her life. She made him feel as if he was important to her, that their friendship was something special. Up to now it had been just that—a sharing friendship. He enjoyed her company so much…maybe a little too much? They had a lot of interesting discussions about life and about their pasts, and about his faith in God. But that was the catch. It was only his faith, not Mercy’s. How could he enjoy her company so much when she couldn’t even understand the most important foundation of his life?
But he kept telling himself she was getting closer.
She reached up to catch a strand of her long dark hair that had fallen from its clasp and caught sight of him still standing there. She gave him a questioning “do you need something?” glance.
He shook his head, waved and turned to walk out of the room, and nearly bulldozed into Mrs. Estelle Pinkley, hospital administrator. He caught himself just in time, with the aid of a few spur-of-the-moment dance steps.
“Oh, good, Dr. Bower, I’m glad I found you.” The tall silver-haired lady took his arm as if to steady him. “Are you too busy to step into the break room with me for a moment?”
“Uh, no, not at all. Is something wrong?” By habit he studied her features and gave her regal seventy-year-old frame a cursory glance up and down as they walked the few feet into the empty E.R. staff break room. Those slender shoulders held a lot of responsibility, and sometimes, when the E.R. was slow and she was having back problems, she would “impose” upon him for a spinal adjustment. As a doctor of osteopathy, Lukas was knowledgeable about spinal manipulation.
“You could say that.” She eased down onto the chair at the far west end of the circular table, massaging her fingers. “We’re being investigated by COBRA.”
She said it too calmly, and for a moment the words didn’t register. Lukas stared at her.
“We could be in for a rough ride, Lukas.”
The impact hit him. “COBRA?” He caught his breath, then pulled back a chair beside her and sank down into it, stunned. The federal watchdog agency had the power, if they searched enough records and found enough infractions, to shut down any hospital or medical center in the country. Every hospital had infractions. Nobody was perfect all of the time, especially when they were the victims of a witch hunt.
“Have you spoken with Beverly lately?” Mrs. Pinkley asked.
“She avoids me as much as possible.”
“She needs to fill out that AMA form, Lukas. It’s been over three months.” She leaned forward and spread her hands across the table. “This is ridiculous! One conniving man should not have this much power over this many people. He’s got Beverly so browbeaten she’s terrified to tell the truth.”
“That conniving man is a grieving father,” Lukas reminded her. “He’s still reacting.” Attorney Bailey Little was also president of the hospital board, a dangerous situation for a doctor employed by that hospital. Bailey had promised vengeance several months ago when Lukas had refused to give morphine to Dwayne. Bailey had furthermore used his influence to sway public and patient opinion against Lukas. The plan had failed miserably upon Dwayne’s tragic death, but Bailey’s influence still beleaguered Mrs. Pinkley and her plans for the hospital.
“I find it outrageous that you’re the one being investigated.” Mrs. Pinkley’s voice dropped even deeper than usual in an unaccustomed show of anger. “You know Bailey’s behind this.”
“When does the investigation start?”
She fixed him with her cool gray gaze, all traces of anger suddenly gone, as if she were slipping into her attorney mode. “The investigator is scheduled to arrive in two weeks. Don’t worry, we’ll handle this together.” She placed her hands on the table to push herself up, then shook her head and sighed. “I wish Bailey didn’t hold such a strategic position.” She stood with a suppressed groan. “The weather’s changing. We’re in for a big storm.”
“Is your back bothering you again?”
She smiled at Lukas, patted his arm and straightened her spine. “Nothing a little exercise and a couple of aspirin won’t take care of. Oh, by the way, I do have some good news. That doctor you wanted to have checked out, Cherra Garcias? She’s got good references. I set her up for an interview Thursday. I hope you don’t mind. You were too busy to talk when she called.”
“No, that’s great.”
“You’ll have trouble if you hire her, you know. She’s obviously Hispanic. The folks around here might be slightly skeptical.”
“Are you saying I should allow public prejudice to sway my decision?”
“No, I just want you to be prepared for ungrounded complaints about her, just as I received complaints about you, and you’re from right here in Missouri.”
“I’m glad you ignored