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“Mornin’, doc,” Jordan said with a smile.

Lucy pursed her lips, clearly agonized by something. “Jordan, could you please come into my office for a moment,” she said.

Jordan obliged, of course, and took a seat at the conference table at Lucy’s direction. Lucy sat as well, as did the woman she was with.

“Jordan, this is Val Mesnik from our human resources department.”

Jordan’s pulse ticked up. Something wormed in his gut, a feeling of impending doom.

“I’m going to let Val explain what’s going on here.”

From a leather workbag, Val took out a thin manila folder, which she splayed open on the table. She reached into the bag again, this time for her reading glasses. She scanned the first page.

“Jordan, here at White Memorial we put a premium on patient privacy. The requirements outlined by the HIPAA act are quite specific when it comes to policies around individual medical records.”

Lucy’s forlorn look only deepened, as if she knew the outcome of this conversation, and it would not be to anyone’s benefit. Jordan felt uncomfortable in his chair and the room seemed to get sauna hot.

“I know about HIPAA,” Jordan said.

Val pulled her glasses to the bridge of her nose and eyed Jordan sternly.

“Do you now?” she said in a soft voice. “Well then, you’ll understand why the IT department was concerned about all the superuser access to the EMR system from locations that they couldn’t trace. Someone, it seems, was accessing patient records and intentionally trying to hide their IP address. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

“Oh, cut the Nancy Drew crap, Val,” Lucy said with an eye roll. “Jordan, IT looked over the dates and time stamps in the logs of some of these sessions and matched it to security camera footage that shows you on the terminals at the time. There were other sessions they couldn’t match up, but they think those happened at a home using IP-masking technology and our one-time passkey.”

Jordan’s body tensed. “You think I did it?”

“I told Val, and her fellow hounds from HR, that it’s not conclusive proof of anything. And besides, I gave you permission to look at records as part of your employment here. In my mind, this is a nonissue.”

“But you didn’t give permission for Jordan to mail Donald Colchester’s medical records to an inmate at Cedar Junction, did you?”

“No, Val,” Lucy said, “because I told you, I did that myself.”

Val glanced at her notes. “I see. Which you know is also a serious violation.”

Lucy locked eyes with Jordan. “Here’s what happened. During a routine search of Brandon Stahl’s cell, they apparently found Donald Colchester’s medical records tucked inside a book.” Lucy put the word “routine” in air quotes. “Val here thinks you had something to do with it because of these superuser sessions. I, of course, told her that’s ridiculous. But evidently that wasn’t good enough for Val here, who wanted to fire you on suspicion alone, which I think is BS. So I told her the truth: I sent the files to Brandon to help with his defense because I thought he was innocent. You shouldn’t get in any trouble for what I’ve done.”

Val cleared her throat. “Yes, well, that’s why I’ve asked for this meeting,” she said. “The computer access suggests the possibility of a different scenario, and I want to give Jordan a chance to state his innocence as a matter of record.”

Jordan looked at Lucy, who nodded her head slightly, making it clear what answer she wanted him to give.

“What’s going to happen to Dr. Abruzzo?” Jordan asked.

“What’s going to happen is I’ll take care of myself,” Lucy said.

“It’s a matter for the hospital to look into,” Val said. “But the hospital’s position on this sort of thing is very clear.”

“Could she lose her job? Her medical license, even?” Jordan’s nervousness showed.

“What happens to me is not your concern,” Lucy said.

Val did not bother to answer Jordan’s questions, which told him all he wanted to know. For several long seconds Jordan gazed at his lap, deep in thought. When he looked up, he made eye contact with Lucy.

“Dr. Abruzzo, after all you’ve done for me, I can’t let anything happen to you. Not one thing. I’m sorry.”

From the pocket of his scrubs Jordan fished out the thin, credit-card-sized passcode generator and put it on the conference table in front of Val.

“I used this to access the records,” Jordan said. “And I’m the one who mailed Brandon those files, not Dr. Abruzzo. It was me and me alone.”

Val smirked as she picked up the thin device.

“Jordan, I’m afraid this is a very serious situation,” Val said.

“He’s my employee,” Lucy said. “I’ll discipline him.”

“If by discipline you mean fire, by all means, Dr. Abruzzo.”

“I’m not firing Jordan.”

“No. I suspected you wouldn’t. But that’s okay. Because I am. Jordan, I’ll need you to come with me.”

Jordan got up from the table. Lucy did the same.

“Jordan, this isn’t over,” Lucy said, a shake to her voice.

Jordan came over and gave Lucy a long embrace.

“I agree,” Jordan said to Lucy. “It’s not over by a long shot.”

CHAPTER 41

Julie had just finished her morning cup of coffee when she bumped into Michelle, who was on her way into the ICU. The two women embraced with a bit more intensity than a typical hug between friends.

“Oh my God, Julie,” Michelle said, looking her friend over head to toe. “Are you doing okay? Should you even be here?”

“I’m sorry, I should have called you back. I’m fine, really I am,” Julie said, sounding assured. “It was scary, but it’s over now.”

“Yeah, like all over the news.”

Julie made a half smile. “It’s a little weird, I have to admit, to have my name out there so much. I even got an e-mail from Roman Janowski.”

“The CEO?”

Julie returned a nod. “He was very sweet, very concerned, and didn’t seem at all bothered with my being so prominent these days. But still, you don’t like getting e-mails from the big boss.”

“I’m sure. Say, can you meet for a late lunch? One thirty? I want to catch up.”

“I think so,” Julie said. “What brings you here today?”

Michelle gave a little laugh. “Unfortunately, this is where a lot of my customers hang out.”

It was Julie’s turn to chuckle, though the rest of this conversation would have to wait until lunch. Amber emerged from Shirley Mitchell’s room with a concerned look on her face.

“Dr. Devereux, there’s a problem with Shirley’s central line. Could you take a look, please?”

“Yes, of course. I’ll be right there.”

Julie said a quick good-bye to Michelle and reconfirmed their plan to meet. Perhaps Lucy would be available and could join them. As if on cue, Julie’s phone rang. It was Lucy calling. Julie declined the call and sent it to voice mail. Then Jordan called, and Julie felt a little pang of concern. Why would both of them call in such short intervals? The answer would have to wait. Shirley needed immediate attention.

As Julie predicted, Shirley had not stabilized enough to be weaned off mechanical ventilation. It had been several days since Shirley’s return to the ICU, and her relatives could no longer maintain lengthy bedside vigils. Shirley was alone most of the time, breathing with help, and unaware in her blissful propofol slumber.

“She must have thrashed about and pulled out the line,” Amber said, concern in her voice. In time, the young nurse would realize these things happened. A patient pulling out their central line was not as rare as Kounis syndrome by any stretch, but it was not a common occurrence either, which was what had Amber on edge.