Cathy looked down at the woman lying stock-still in the ICU bed. "How are you feeling this morning?"
Ella Mae's only response was a slight shift of the head, turning her face toward the wall.
"I asked them to offer you a liquid diet. Did you drink anything?"
A nod of yes this time. Good.
"I got the letter… and the check."
Now Ella Mae turned her head toward Cathy. Her eyes were empty. There was the faintest movement of her lips, and then she compressed them tightly together.
"I appreciate that you tried to make amends, but I don't think attempting suicide was such a good idea. Not for you. Not for anybody."
"Sorry." The words came out as a croak.
"Did you talk with the psychiatrist when he came by yesterday?" Cathy had read the consultation note, but she wanted to hear Ella Mae's version.
Ella Mae shook her head. "No need. It's all in the letter."
"No, the letter unlocks a lot of mysteries for me, but you've got some work to do to get yourself straightened out." Cathy pulled a chair to the bedside and sat. "If I let you out of the hospital, will you promise not to try to kill yourself again?"
A nod.
"I hope you realize I can't give you any more tranquilizers right now. Can you do without them?"
"I'll try my best," Ella Mae whispered.
"And if I discharge you, what will you do?"
"I guess I'll go back to work."
"Some of the people there probably know about what you did. Can you handle that?"
Ella Mae nodded weakly. "It's no secret I've been under stress. That's what my job is all about. I can handle that." She fluttered a hand on top of the blanket. "But no one knows about the money I took."
"And I won't tell them, either," Cathy said. "But you need some help getting your head together. Will you see a psychiatrist if I refer you to someone? How did you like the doctor who visited with you yesterday?"
Ella Mae pointed to the carafe of water on her bedside table. Cathy poured a glass and handed it to her. Ella Mae finished the water and handed the glass back. "I didn't like him. He made me feel… small. Like, by attempting suicide, I'd forfeited the right to be human."
"Would you drive to Fort Worth to see a psychiatrist? Someone I can recommend from personal experience?"
Cathy could tell she had surprised Ella Mae. Most people thought doctors led a perfect life.
"Would you?" Cathy asked again.
Ella Mae managed a weak smile. "If you give him your personal seal of approval, that's good enough for me."
Despite Will's desire to accompany her to the bank, Cathy insisted on going alone, especially since she no longer needed to negotiate with Milton Nix. She promised Will she'd bring him up to date that evening while they worked on her case.
"I'd like to speak with Mr. Nix, please," Cathy told the teller.
Apparently, the bank employees-along with everyone else in Dainger-knew about the malpractice suit. The woman stammered, "Do you think…? I mean… can someone else help you?"
"No, this is bank business. I need to talk with Mr. Nix."
Cathy took perverse pleasure in watching the drama unfold. The teller went to the desk of Nix's secretary and held a whispered consultation. Then the two of them looked back at Cathy, quickly turning away when she returned their stare. After a few more words, the secretary scuttled to the door of Nix's office and tapped lightly. In a moment she eased the door open and ducked inside like someone slipping into an air-conditioned room without letting the cool air escape. The teller waited nervously outside the office, obviously unsure whether she should return to her station or stay put. Finally, the door to the inner sanctum opened, and Nix appeared.
Milton Nix was dressed as a bank president should be-or, more likely, as the wife of a bank president thought he should be. The way his three-piece gray pinstripe suit hung on him demonstrated that, no matter how much you spend on the clothes, the final image depends on the person wearing them.
He beckoned to Cathy, who chose to ignore the gesture. Let him come to her. Finally, he ambled over to her. "How can I help you?"
"May we speak in private?"
"Of course." He gestured toward his office.
Once they were seated, Nix said, "I'm not sure of the protocol of the situation, but should we be talking like this? With the suit pending and all? Shouldn't our lawyers be handling all the communication?"
Cathy smiled as she recalled Will's comments to Sam Lawton. "The malpractice suit? Yes, my lawyer is handling that, including preparing the countersuit against you."
Apparently, Sam Lawton hadn't shared this message with his client. Nix's face flushed. He tugged at his collar, and Cathy feared he would go into cardiac arrest again.
"This is about the note I have with this bank. The note, I might add, that you assured me could be handled by paying only the interest when it came up for renewal, giving me a chance to establish my practice." She reached into her purse and pulled out the bank's letter. "May I ask what caused this change of heart?"
"I… well, that is… the loan committee decided that recent developments called into question your ability to repay the money in a timely fashion. They thought that a five thousand dollar reduction in principal would serve as a good faith measure, allowing us to continue the loan."
"If I pay that amount, will you draft a new note, maturing two years from now?"
"I'm not sure the committee-"
Cathy had a flash of insight. This wasn't about making her close her practice. This was all about Nix saving his own skin.
"You know as well as I do," she said, "that you make these decisions, and the committee rubber-stamps your recommendations. I'll tell you what's going on. You figured the malpractice suit was the last straw for my practice, and you decided to pull the plug on the note to avoid criticism for making it. You could claim you saw how the situation had changed, so you acted to protect the bank's interest. Isn't that right?"
"Well… uh," Nix stuttered. "We expect the bank examiners here next month, and we have some notes that aren't well-secured. I was afraid of what they'd say. Requiring you to reduce the principal would show that we were aware of the risk and had acted to lessen it." He pulled the tiny blue silk handkerchief from his suit breast pocket and wiped his brow. "Actually, we've done the same thing with several other notes. It's not just you, Dr. Sewell."
Cathy leaned forward and thought she saw Nix shrink back in his chair. "I'll make you a deal. You renew the note for two years-at one point below prime this time-and I'll pay down the principal by five thousand dollars."
"Why would I do that?"
She smiled. "Because the other half of the deal is this. In exchange for a two-year note at interest one percent below the prime rate, I'll instruct my attorney not to file that countersuit against you and your wife."
"Leave my wife out of this."
"Why? As I understand it, and as we'll prove at trial, she's the reason behind this whole malpractice suit in the first place. It will be interesting when Will gets her on the stand, and it all comes out in open court."
Nix looked as though he'd swallowed a bad oyster. "What comes out?"
Cathy decided to sink the hook. "Mainly, how she tried to kill you. Actually, she would have succeeded if I hadn't saved your life."
"I don't-"
"She and her brother changed your dosage, then altered the prescription to cover it up so she could inherit everything you've got."
"That's not true."
"Maybe not. Or maybe it is. We'll just have to investigate and see, won't we?"
Nix seemed to collapse inward on himself like a balloon with a slow leak. "I can't do what you're asking, but how about one year at prime plus one percent?"
"Eighteen months at prime," Cathy said.
Nix ran his hand around his collar. "All right. I suppose I could agree to those terms. But you'll still need to reduce the principal by-"
"I know." Cathy brandished the cashier's check. "I believe you'll find that this covers that amount plus current interest, with a few dollars left over. Now I'll wait right here while you have your secretary prepare a receipt and the new note."
"Where did this money come from?"
"Now, Mr. Nix," Cathy said. "You of all people should know better than to ever ask that question. Money is anonymous. All that cash you have in your vault has no history, no scruples, and no identity. Just add this to your little pile, revise my loan, and I'll be on my way."
Cathy thought the day would never end. It was nearly dark when she opened the front door of the Kennedy house. As soon as she stepped inside, she slipped out of her shoes. Holding them in one hand, with her briefcase in the other, she padded into the living room. The shades were drawn, and the lights were off. She reached for the light switch when a voice stopped her in her tracks.
"I remember that about you. Not fond of wearing shoes."Will flipped on the lamp beside the couch where he sat.
Cathy recoiled. "Will, you scared me to death." She took a couple of deep breaths. "Where are your folks?"
He eased offthe couch and greeted her with a hug and kiss.
"Mom and Dad have already left for a meeting at church. They've eaten, but they left some supper in the oven. Join me?"
When they were settled at the kitchen table, Cathy said, "I went by the bank today. I used the check from Ella Mae to pay what they demanded."
"So you're square with the bank? You renewed the note?" Will helped himself to another of his mother's biscuits."What did Nix say?"
"Not much, after I brought up the possibility of a countersuit and a trial where his wife's history would come out."
Will almost choked. "You know when I mentioned that to Sam I wasn't serious."
Cathy smiled. "I'm not a lawyer, so I guess I can be excused for not understanding that. Anyway, Nix agreed to give me a new note at prime, renewable in eighteen months by paying the interest only."
"What happened to the woman who wanted my help because she didn't know where to turn?"
"You know, I think she's learning that she's pretty capable. That doesn't mean she can't use some help from time to time, like a white knight riding by in his pickup to rescue her when her trusty steed crashes."
"I was thinking more in terms of legal help," Will said."But I'm glad you look at me that way. I'd like to make the arrangement more permanent. Have you thought about it?"
"Not… really." Cathy's heart pounded, and she took a moment to calm down. "We were awfully close a few years ago, and I'll admit that I had a vision that we'd eventually marry. But that was then. A lot has changed."
Will shook his head. "Nothing could have happened that would make me stop loving you. There, I've said it. I love you."
"Nothing will change the way I feel" had been ambiguous. But this was "Nothing would make me stop loving you." How Cathy had longed to hear those words. More than that, she longed to say them back to Will. She wanted to, but somehow she couldn't. How could she explain this to him? And how could he possibly understand?
"Two men have already told me they loved me. They said they wanted to marry me. I thought I loved them. I told them so. Then they let me down. I'm still working on healing those wounds."
"And-?"
"And I promised myself that the next time I told a man I loved him, I would be one hundred percent sure."
"You're not sure about me?"
"At this moment I am. But I don't want to make another mistake. It would only hurt both of us. I'm almost there- maybe even ninety percent. Can you be patient with me a little longer?"
Will pushed back his plate. "Would it help if I withdrew as your lawyer? Honestly, it would be hard for me to do, because I want to help you, but I'd do it."
"No, I need your legal help. More than that, I trust you."The words just came out, but as she heard them, Cathy knew she really meant them.
"Okay, I'll try to be patient."
Cathy could see Will make a visible effort to shift into professional mode. "If I'm still your lawyer, we need to talk about our defense of this malpractice action. As I see it, it hinges on showing that someone tampered with that prescription and that you weren't responsible for Nix's overdose. And, of course, in the end you were the one who saved his life."
"That's all well and good," Cathy said, "but we have no proof, just suspicions."
"Maybe if I file for a continuance-ask for more time."
"No!" Cathy slammed her hand down on the table, and the silverware rattled. "I'm tired of having this hanging over my head. I've been thinking about it all day, and I believe I know how to smoke out the person responsible."
"How?"
She shook her head. "No, it's a one-person job, and the less you know about it, the better."
Jane tapped on the open door of Cathy's office. "Want me to bring you back a sandwich?"
"No thanks," Cathy said. "I brought yogurt and an apple. I'll eat at my desk. I've got some stuffto do."
Cathy waited until she heard the outer door close and lock. Then she opened Microsoft Word on her computer and began typing. It took her several tries to achieve the right blend of threat and greed.
How many copies would she need? That depended. Who could have changed the prescription? Who had means, motive, and opportunity? She opened a new document and made her list.
The two pharmacists, Jacob Collins and Lloyd Allen, were the most logical suspects. They had ample opportunity. They had the knowledge. She wasn't sure what the motive might be, but maybe that would come out later. For now, she needed to be sure they got the bait.
Sherri Collins, Jacob's wife, also had access to the pharmacy area. She could certainly have done it, but would she know how to alter the prescription? Motive? No problem there. It seemed that everyone in town had something against Cathy, and Sherri was no exception. Then Cathy realized she couldn't send a note to both Jacob and Sherri, or it would be obvious to them that she was on a fishing expedition. No, it had to be Jacob. Leave Sherri offthe list.
How about Gail Nix? Cathy had been bluffing when she told Milton his wife had tried to kill him, but it was certainly possible. She'd have needed the assistance of her brother, Lloyd. If Gail and Lloyd talked, would a letter to each make them think Cathy knew they had collaborated? Would it make them more certain that their plot had been discovered? She decided to add Gail's name to the list.
She couldn't bring herself to believe that Milton Nix had altered his own prescription, but had he left it on his desk at the bank before getting it filled? If he had, who could have gotten hold of it long enough to make the change? Only his secretary and Ella Mae had easy access. Motive aside, Cathy couldn't believe that either of them possessed the medical knowledge to make the alterations. No, leave them off the list.
Any others? Her mind kept coming back to Marcus Bell. He had a black Ford Expedition. His attitude toward Cathy had been ambivalent, to say the least. A doctor would know how to change the digitalis dosage. How could he have gotten the prescription? It wouldn't be hard for a physician to visit the pharmacy department and use some pretext to gain access behind the counter. Maybe Marcus sent the pharmacist looking in the shelves for some weird drug, taking the opportunity to palm the prescription as it lay on the counter. A little work in his office, then another trip back. Maybe even hand the altered script to the pharmacist and say he'd picked it up by mistake. Much as she hated the thought, Marcus's name went on the list.
Was there someone else? Yes, there was-a person with medical knowledge and a definite grudge against Cathy. She didn't see how he could have carried it out, though. It was far-fetched. Or was it? With a sigh, she wrote down Robert's name on the list and transcribed a Dallas address beneath it.
She'd carefully avoided adding one name to her list, stepping around it as gingerly as she would have avoided a landmine. There was one person who had intimate knowledge of all her actions since the first day the black SUV had made that near-suicide run at her. A person who had a right to hold a grudge, however much he might deny it. Of course, he didn't drive a black SUV. He drove a pickup. What if he had two vehicles? She'd never seen inside his two-car garage. Maybe the other half wasn't filled with tools and Christmas decorations.
She sighed and chided herself. His name wasn't on the list of Expedition owners. And he said he loved her. However much her head told her not to blindly trust a man, she knew-knew for certain-that she could trust Will. No, she couldn't- wouldn't- suspect he was capable of such duplicity.
Cathy computer addressed five plain white envelopes, adding the notation "Personal." She stuffed copies of her letter into the envelopes, added stamps, and dropped the small bundle into her purse. She'd mail them on the way home. They should arrive tomorrow-Friday. Then came the hard part-waiting to see who would respond.
She hoped her simple message would be enough to flush out the person whose actions almost killed Milton Nix and threatened to destroy her professional career:
I KNOW HOW YOU MANAGED TO ALTER THAT DIGOXIN PRESCRIPTION. HOW MUCH ARE YOU PREPARED TO PAY FOR MY SILENCE? IF IT'S ENOUGH, I'LL LET MY INSURANCE COMPANY SETTLE THE SUIT. I'LL LEAVE TOWN AND NO ONE WILL KNOW WHAT YOU DID. COME ALONE TO MY OFFICE AT 9:00 SATURDAY NIGHT.
– Cathy Sewell, M.D.