Critical Condition Page 11

  “You sound pretty passionate about the alternative treatments. Like, maybe you’ve seen the results firsthand?”

  “In a way.” McCrae’s gaze settled on the far wall, almost as if he was staring much farther into the distance, or into the past. A moment later, he returned his attention to Zach. “After my older brother exhausted all hope in our medical options, he traveled to Mexico for treatment.”

  “So the results were good?”

  “No. He died.”

  Zach watched the doctor’s face, searching for further evidence of the vacant expression he’d just witnessed, but he saw only a deep sorrow in the man’s eyes. A sorrow that echoed painfully against the walls of Zach’s chest.

  “But that’s not the point,” McCrae continued. “My brother never should’ve felt like he had to travel thousands of miles from home for hope. And then die—” McCrae’s voice cracked “—alone.”

  “I’m sorry. I lost my wife to cancer and can imagine how difficult that would’ve been for your family.” Zach paused. “But if you feel that way, why would you discuss alternative-treatment options with Melanie?”

  “Hope, Mr. Reynolds. It can be a miraculous healer. And the girl needs a good dose.” McCrae headed into the next patient’s room.

  Zach stared at the open door to Melanie’s room and recalled the peace on his wife’s face as she’d slipped from this life.

  His thoughts shifted to Tara and last night’s conversation. He understood her struggle to comprehend how a loving God could allow such suffering. The Bible said that no one understands that the righteous are taken away to be spared from evil. Intellectually, he could concede that God had spared his wife and child from much worse. But deep down...

  Deep down, sometimes it had taken every ounce of his will not to resent that God hadn’t seen fit to spare them more.

  But the alternative, doubting they’d moved on to a better place, was unthinkable. Somewhere along the way, God had filled him with an inexplicable peace, and gratefulness for the time they’d had together. If only Tara could see past her own disappointments in God.

  He shook away the thought, too aware that he had other reasons for wanting Tara to believe. He needed his mind focused on the job. Not Tara. At least—not beyond her safety. He pushed the button for the elevator, contemplating a way he might quiz her about Whittaker’s drug trials without raising her suspicions.

  The doors opened and Tara stood inside.

  “Hey, can you ride to my floor with me?” he asked.

  She stepped back to let him in. “I was surprised to see you with Melanie.”

  A smile whispered across his lips at the memory of Melanie’s take on his interest in Tara. Focus. He pushed the button for the third floor and waited for the elevator doors to close before responding to Tara’s comment. “I’m concerned about her. I think McCrae is, too.”

  “But he’s the one that recommended she be released tomorrow.”

  “Probably because he gave her the names of alternative-treatment facilities. Which I don’t get. I thought this new cancer wing was supposed to be offering the most cutting-edge treatments. Why wouldn’t he refer her to one of the drug trials?”

  “Trust me, if McCrae thought the drugs could help Melanie, he’d move heaven and earth to get her into one of Whittaker’s trials. That’s the kind of doctor he is.” The elevator halted and the doors whisked open.

  Zach hit the door-close button and braced his hand on the wall behind Tara’s head. “What do you mean if?”

  She lowered her voice. “Let’s just say Whittaker has a tendency to get fixated on these trials. And I’m not convinced that it’s always for the right reasons.”

  “Because drug companies pay for the tests?”

  The elevator doors reopened, this time back at Tara’s floor.

  She slipped around him and out the doors. “You said it. Not me.”

  Yeah, if the drug company offered Whittaker kickbacks for good results—a kickback in the form of a hefty donation to the new cancer wing, perhaps—Whittaker might be persuaded to skew his results.

  Zach found a private alcove on the next floor and put in another call to Rick. “I need you to check the coroner’s reports on Ellen Clark and Debra Parker. Had either woman been on a drug called AP-2000?”

  Papers rustled. “Yes. Ellen was. Not Parker. Why?”

  “A theory I’m working on.” Except if subjects were dying on the drugs, Whittaker would be more likely to cover up their participation in the trials than hurry along their demise. Still, something didn’t add up.

  “Does the theory include Alice? Because she’s our fingerprint match.”

  TEN

  Tara scanned the hall around the empty nurse’s station before rounding the desk to log on to the computer. Zach may have wanted her to believe that his interest in Whittaker’s drug trials was for Melanie’s sake, but she didn’t believe for a second that he’d let himself get sidetracked from his investigation. His interest must have to do with the list of names he’d shown her yesterday.

  Zach had been pretty closed-lipped about where he’d gotten the names and why he was interested in those patients. But he’d probably appreciate any information she could feed him. Between the creepy text message and the scare over Suzie, and then the code blue yesterday, she’d completely forgotten about the list. Technically, she shouldn’t look up patients’ records without a valid medical reason, but what harm would a quick peek do?

  She logged on to the computer and tried to recall who was on the list. Ellen was. And Chester. Yes, Chester Morton. She glanced around again to ensure no one was in the vicinity and then pulled up Chester’s medical record. With a bit of digging she might be able to figure out what they all had in common.

  She quickly scrolled through the files, looking for anything that seemed out of the ordinary. Chester was diagnosed with inoperable cancer four years ago. He’d endured a number of treatment protocols with limited success. Six months ago, he’d withdrawn from the AP-2000 trials. Bingo. She knew there had to be a connection between that list and Zach’s sudden interest in Whittaker’s drug trials.

  “What’s so interesting?”

  Tara jerked the cursor across the screen at Alice’s sudden appearance. The woman would report her in a heartbeat. Tara quickly closed Chester’s file. “I was updating records. Any trouble while I was gone?”

  “Chelsea’s sister is here again. Says Chelsea needs more pain meds.”

  Tara opened the patient’s file on the computer screen to see how long until her next dose.

  “Want a coffee?” Alice poured two cups, doctored them with milk and sugar, and handed one to Tara. “You look like you could use the caffeine.”

  “Thanks.” As Tara brought the cup to her lips and blew the liquid into tiny ripples, the phone rang. She hit Speakerphone. “May I help you?”

  “Tara?” Zach said, so quietly it took her a second to recognize his voice.

  She picked up the handset. “Yes.”

  “We have a match.”

  “Match?” she repeated, taking a sip of coffee.

  “The fingerprint on your lunch container. It’s Alice’s.”

  She spluttered coffee across the computer screen. Alice’s?!

  “You okay?” Zach asked.

  Alice had disappeared.

  Tara sprinted to the sink and gargled out the remnants in her throat with a glass of water. She’d been so preoccupied with the medical records, she hadn’t given Alice’s coffee offer a second thought.

  “Tara?” Zach’s voice sounded from the handset lying on the desk.

  She rinsed her mouth a couple more times, then returned to the phone. “I’m here.”

  “I wanted you to know so you’d be on your guard.”

  “Good thinking.” She
shuddered to think how close she’d come to downing Alice’s toxic brew.

  “Now, she may not be involved. She could’ve simply moved the container around in the fridge. But it’s imperative that you act normal. Whoever poisoned your lunch seems to have taken a wait-and-see approach. I don’t want you to give her, or whoever it is, a reason to come after you again.”

  Right. Alice had offered her the coffee after she’d caught her looking at the files.

  “So far Rick hasn’t been able to convince the judge we have sufficient evidence for a search warrant.”

  Tara wiped the coffee drips from her computer screen. “I think I can help with that.”

  “How do you figure?”

  The bitter taste rose in Tara’s throat. “She brought me a cup of coffee just before you called.”

  “You didn’t drink any, did you?”

  If she wasn’t mistaken, Tara heard Zach’s chair topple and imagined him surging to his feet. “I’m fine,” she hedged, racking her brain for poisons potent enough to damage without being swallowed. She couldn’t think of any that wouldn’t have stung her throat or whose bitter taste could be covered, even by hospital coffee.

  “Stay put. I’ll be right there.”

  She spotted Alice heading toward Whittaker’s office. “It’d be better if I meet you. Say, at the back door of wing C in five minutes?”

  “Okay. I’ll have Rick send someone over to take the cup in for testing. This could clinch our case.” He paused a moment. “See you in a few minutes. Don’t be late.”

  As she hung up the phone, Tara shivered at the thought that Alice could despise her enough to poison her.

  The woman was spiteful, yes...but enough to murder her?

  Tara took a deep, bolstering breath and then snatched her pass card from the computer hub. Even if Alice was behind the other attempts, she was too smart to poison a coffee that would easily be traced back to her. Tara picked up the mug. Well, they’d know soon enough. She headed for the stairwell to avoid running into anyone.

  By the time she reached the back door, Zach was waiting. He took the cup with a latex-gloved hand, then caught her hand in his free one and stroked his thumb across her knuckles. “Stay alert.”

  He wore a denim shirt that made the blue of his eyes swirl in ever-darkening shades. Or maybe it was the way he looked at her, as if he couldn’t bear to let her out of his sight.

  Slipping from his grasp, she headed back upstairs. I’m not attracted to him. Sure, he was nice. But it had been so long since a guy had paid her any attention, she was probably reading too much into his touch, his soft words. She was his informant, for crying out loud. He couldn’t care about her beyond that.

  Her mind harkened back to the soul-baring story he’d shared last night about his wife. Okay, maybe he cared a little.

  But she couldn’t.

  Suzie was at an impressionable age right now.

  Are you sure it’s really Suzie you’re trying to protect?

  Tara shook away the memory of her sister’s probing question. Between her new position and Suzie’s care, it was all she could do to maintain a steady course. She didn’t need any complications. Never mind that Zach was the most incredible man she’d ever met and a natural with kids and the sweetest thing since lollipops.

  I’m not attracted to him, she repeated firmly.

  * * *

  Zach rubbed his eyes and tried refocusing on the computer screen. He hadn’t missed the way Tara’s hands had trembled as she’d handed him the mug of coffee for testing. She was scared. And revealing his own anxiousness hadn’t helped.

  He had plenty of experience with informants in dangerous situations, but none of those situations had ever hit him like this. As though...it was personal.

  Was Alice involved, or had she innocently handled Tara’s lunch container? If she was guilty, there had to be other evidence he could use to nail her. As for possible motive... Was she afraid Tara had seen her in that hospital room? Or did her resentment of Tara’s promotion make her a willing coconspirator with the person really behind the patients’ deaths? Someone like Whittaker?

  A call bell dinged, and the RN reviewing charts at the desk next to him left the station.

  Taking advantage of the momentary privacy, he typed in his password and pulled up the audit records. Part of his “job” was to validate the data, but since these included a record of every time a staff member accessed the system and what files he opened, Zach was more interested in what he might discover. In the last case he’d cracked, he’d used a system audit trail to blow a suspect’s alibi.

  Zach opened Whittaker’s records first. The man had been on and off the system from various terminals throughout the hospital. Unusual, but not unjustifiable. Zach skimmed through the list of patient medical records retrieved over the past few weeks. Most had been accessed from the stations in the outpatient clinic, but... Uh-oh, what was this?

  Whittaker had accessed a dozen medical records from his office the Saturday before last. And ten of those names matched the list Zach had found. So what was he up to?

  Zach scrolled forward, but there was no evidence that Whittaker had opened any of those same records in the week and a half since then. Zach tracked McCrae’s trail next. His access to medical records was far more sporadic and went late into the night. Given his long hours, that may not mean anything. Zach scrolled back through the weeks. McCrae had accessed the records of several of the names on Whittaker’s list, but nothing suspicious.

  Ah...then, again. Zach stopped scrolling. Four weeks ago, McCrae had accessed Deb Parker’s medical records. Only—Deb Parker wasn’t his patient.

  Of course, he may have just been asked for a consult. Zach groaned. Maybe he was going about this the wrong way. He opened the audit menu and clicked on Show by Records Accessed. Then, in the search box, he typed “Deb Parker,” as well as the names from Whittaker’s list.

  Several records had been accessed by nurses numerous times a day, Alice Bradshaw among them. Presumably, those instances were to record the vital signs of hospitalized patients. The coroner had accessed Deb Parker’s and Ellen Clark’s records following their deaths, and so had—Zach blew out an irritated breath—Tara.

  “What are those?”

  Zach jerked half out of his seat at Whittaker’s question.

  Whittaker laid his hand on Zach’s shoulder and peered closer at the screen. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. You seemed so engrossed. I was curious what was so interesting.”

  Zach zipped the scroll button to hide the records connected to Tara. “These are audit records. I was just validating them to ensure the system is working properly.”

  “Chester Morton. He’s one of my patients.”

  Zach glanced at the screen. The top line said Tara had accessed Chester Morton’s file four hours ago. A patient not currently admitted. Zach hit the close icon.

  “You mean you can see who’s accessed records?” Whittaker pulled up a chair. “I had no idea such a thing existed. Show me how it works.”

  “I don’t think I’m allowed to do that, sir. I’m not sure who has authority to view the logs.”

  “Surely, as the head of Oncology, I would. It might prove quite helpful in analyzing the distribution of care.”

  Zach bristled at Whittaker’s keen interest. Had he spotted Tara’s name? “I’m afraid without authorization, I really can’t.”

  Whittaker stood abruptly, sending his desk chair rolling into the wall. “Yes, I see your point. If you’ll excuse me.”

  Inwardly, Zach fumed. What did Tara think she was doing?

  He’d told her to lie low. She probably had no idea her computer activity could be tracked. Zach ground his teeth until they hurt. He never should’ve showed her that list of names. This was his fault.

  It was
only a matter of time before Whittaker sweet-talked Barb into showing him the audit trails.

  Zach shuffled the cursor back and forth on the screen. It’d be so easy to turn off the audit trails for a few minutes on the pretext of making program adjustments, and then he could check the medical records himself. He clicked through the menus. One more click and he’d be in. His finger hovered over the mouse.

  No, he couldn’t. Everything he’d learned so far could stand up in court. If he looked at those medical records, and the action came to light, not only would he lose the case, he’d likely lose his job. And the judge wasn’t about to give him a search warrant based on a hunch.

  But...he could cover Tara’s tracks.

  Zach reopened the audit files and pulled up the records for Tara. It was impossible to entirely delete the electronic footprint, but he could bury it so deep that Whittaker would never see it, and hopefully neither would a defense attorney.

  Zach tidied up Tara’s records the best he could. She’d accessed and made notations on other medical records during the same computer session, so he couldn’t entirely delete the log, which resulted in a time discrepancy. Hopefully, anyone looking would just assume she’d been distracted by another duty and hadn’t logged off. He typed in the last of the changes and quickly logged off.

  Now he needed to track her down and caution her before her good intentions got her into serious hot water.

  The RN he’d been training earlier returned to the desk. “I have another question for you.”

  “What’s that?”

  The nurse rattled off a long-winded scenario.

  Zach eyeballed the clock on the wall behind her. “I’ll have to study that possibility. Can I get back to you tomorrow?”

  “Oh, sure.” She launched into a second question.

  This time Zach made a point of checking his watch. “I’m afraid I have somewhere else I need to be right now. I’ll be happy to go over all of this with you tomorrow. Okay?”