“I get it,” Jack said. “What you meant by auspicious was that you thought the chances of a successful resuscitation were a bit higher since he was involved from the get-go.”
“Without a doubt,” Carol said. “Especially when he told us that his CPR efforts initially had a definite positive effect.”
“What was he referring to specifically? Or was it just an intuitive sense on his part?”
“He was being very specific. He claimed that after just a few breaths and a few minutes of chest compression the patient’s color improved dramatically.”
“I would say that was a good sign,” Jack admitted. “Tell me, did you see the patient when she first arrived here?”
“Of course. We had been alerted the code was coming in from the garage, and we were all set up and waiting in one of our trauma rooms.”
“How was the patient’s color when she arrived?”
“Not too bad, and it pinked up considerably once we got an endotracheal tube in and respired her with oxygen.”
“That makes sense. What was the presumed diagnosis at that point?”
“Heart attack for sure, especially after we got back the elevated troponin levels combined with the history of type 1 diabetes. Has it been confirmed?”
“It’s still pending,” he said. “Curiously enough, we didn’t see any evidence grossly, but histology has yet to be seen. We are also looking into a possible channelopathy.”
“Now that would be interesting,” Carol said. “That might explain why we weren’t able to get the heart to beat even with a pacemaker. It was frustrating, considering the patient was a respected hospital staff member who we all knew. I can assure you we pulled out all the stops.”
“I can imagine,” Jack said. He got to his feet. He felt a bit guilty taking the woman’s time as another monitor alarm had begun sounding. He wondered how people could work in such a pressure-filled environment day in and day out. “I want to thank you for your cooperation. It looks like you are busy, and I hate to take any more of your time.”
“We’re always busy,” Carol said. “Especially during this freaking pandemic. If you want any more details, I suggest you talk directly with Ronnie Cavanaugh. He’s a personable guy, and I’m sure he’d be happy to talk with you. He’s scheduled to be on tonight.”
“I just might do that,” Jack said. The problem was that the man worked the night shift and obviously slept during the day, meaning a face-to-face meeting would require his coming to the MMH one evening. How to arrange that without Laurie knowing he was out in the field investigating wouldn’t be easy.
“If you need anything else, you know where to find me,” Carol said. She also stood and gestured for Jack to precede her out of the desk area.
Chapter 10
Tuesday, December 7, 1:05 p.m.
Once back in the ED waiting room, Jack checked his phone. He wanted to make sure there had been no calls and no texts, as he’d put it on silent mode while he was at the MMH. He was relieved to see he was still in the clear with no one questioning where he was. He also checked the time and moaned when he saw he’d already been away from the OCME for more than an hour and fifteen minutes. Although his absence so far hadn’t evoked any attention, he knew it wouldn’t last forever and that he’d better get back. The problem was, at least so far, his visit had done nothing to solve the dilemma of not knowing what he didn’t know about Sue Passero’s passing. There was still one more place that might offer some clues: her private office.
A visit to the information desk solved the minor problem that he had no idea where it was. Within minutes he was on his way to the Kaufman Outpatient Building. He’d been told Dr. Susan Passero’s office was located on the fourth floor in the Internal Medicine Clinic.
As he rode up in the elevator, he recognized he was now on more or less shaky legal ground. Up until that point he had been perfectly in his legal right as a medical examiner tasked to investigate Sue Passero’s death to check out the scene where she had been found as well as the Emergency Department where she had been declared dead. But now, going up to her office without probable cause, he was pushing the boundaries and legally he should obtain a warrant. But getting warrants was time-consuming, and time was something Jack didn’t have if he was going to be forced to produce a death certificate quickly. An added concern was by pushing the legal boundaries, he was also accepting a slightly bigger risk the hospital admin might find out about his presence and flag it to Laurie.
The Internal Medicine Clinic was as busy or busier than the ED as it was now early afternoon. Like clinics in all privately owned hospitals, the doctors were overscheduled as a way of maximizing corporate income. Every day the clinic was in operation, it would get backed up, and as a normal day progressed, the number of people waiting to be seen for supposedly scheduled appointments multiplied geometrically. As had happened in the ED, Jack was forced to wait in line at the clinic check-in desk. When it was his turn, he again flashed his badge and asked to speak to whoever worked the closest with Dr. Sue Passero. The clerk directed him into the scheduling office to talk with Virginia Davenport.
Jack knocked on the door. When no one answered, he repeated with a bit more force. When there was still no answer, he tried the door. It was unlocked, and he walked in. Inside the windowless room were four desks occupied by four women of various ages. All were wearing headphones and parked behind individual computer screens while busily engaged in ongoing scheduling conversations. Like the security office, none of them were wearing masks.
Approaching the nearest desk, he asked for Virginia Davenport. The clerk responded by pointing to one of her coworkers without interrupting a conversation she was having with someone on her phone line.
Approaching this second woman, Jack waited until she had finished a call. She then slipped off her headphones and looked up at him quizzically, making him sense that visitors were not a common phenomenon in the clinic scheduling office. Looking down at her, two things caught his attention: piercingly dark eyes and teeth white enough for him to be tempted to ask her brand of toothpaste.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Jack began as he once again held up his badge while introducing himself. He explained he’d like to ask her a few question about Dr. Sue Passero.
“Are you Dr. Laurie Montgomery’s husband?” Virginia asked after repeating his name. She was looking at him sideways and with a touch of surprise.
“I am,” Jack said. He inwardly grimaced at the unexpected question bringing up Laurie’s name.
“I’ve spoken with your wife on many occasions,” she said. “I’ve arranged lunches and dinners for her and Dr. Passero. What a surprise to meet you.”
“Small world,” he said, trying to be nonchalant. “Is there someplace we can talk briefly, provided you can take the time? Maybe it would be better if I come back if you are too busy.” The buzz of the ongoing conversations was distracting.
“No, this is fine. It’s always this hectic. We can use Dr. Passero’s office if that is okay with you.”
“That would be perfect,” Jack said. Getting to see Sue’s office was the goal. He was on a fishing trip with the only questionable justification of checking if she had an insulin source in her office and, if so, if it all looked normal.
After telling her coworkers where she was going and grabbing a mask, Virginia led him out of the scheduling office, through the crowded clinic waiting area, and down a hallway before eventually stopping at an unmarked, closed door. Getting out a ring of keys, she unlocked it and stepped aside to let Jack enter. Following, she closed the door behind her. A sudden, welcome stillness prevailed.