Madeline was totally shocked and devastated.
The only two people at Manhattan Memorial with whom she ever really spoke were Emma, who didn’t give a damn what anyone thought of her, and Doug Wilton, who, fortunately, hadn’t been Ronald’s cardiologist and was therefore unnamed in the lawsuit.
Doug was a true friend, and not just to Conrad, but to her. Because of his loyalty to them both, he cared more about preserving the friendships than he did about whatever revenge Jacob Casper would take if he knew that Doug had “b
roken the rules.” The injustice of the lawsuit pissed him off. He was a top cardiologist with credentials to match. He could get a job anywhere.
Still, Madeline didn’t want to jeopardize Doug’s career. So the two of them talked only in private—in Doug’s office with the door shut. He kept her apprised of any memos he received or gossip he overheard, and he listened when she needed to vent.
Because Madeline and Conrad had been advised by their attorney to make no contact with each other, Doug filled Madeline in on Conrad’s end of things. As Madeline already knew from Casey, Conrad had released himself from Crest Haven several days ago and was back in his own apartment under a psychiatrist’s care. He and his lawyer would be meeting with Manhattan Memorial and their counsel to answer whatever questions Ed agreed to let Conrad address. If no meeting of the minds took place, Ed would be preparing papers to serve the hospital on behalf of both Conrad and Madeline, and yet more lawsuits would commence.
The whole situation was spinning out of control.
Sometimes, when Madeline finished up a particularly painful shift, she’d leave the hospital—always with her head held high—go straight home and weep. She was a strong woman, but even she had her limits. She felt like Hester Prynne straight out of The Scarlet Letter.
With one wonderful difference—she had Marc.
Marc always seemed to know when she needed him because he’d show up at her door with sandwiches or Chinese food or her favorite cinnamon buns from the bakery around the corner. They’d eat and talk and inevitably wind up in bed, which was the only time Madeline’s mind was truly free, filled only with Marc and her love for him.
“We’re going to get through this,” he told her repeatedly. “This bullshit lawsuit is going to be a thing of the past. More important, you’re going to be safe. Whoever’s trying to kill you will be thrown in jail to rot. And you and I can start to build the life together that we should have started ten years ago.”
Those words got Madeline through the worst of the days.
But the stress of it all was wearing her down more and more each day.
* * *
Emma marched into the FI conference room, tossed down her tote bag and threw herself into a chair.
“This sucks,” she said.
Casey put down the attachment Patrick had emailed her, outlining the security detail now firmly posted inside Conrad’s apartment. The agreement they had with Conrad was that they supplied the security and he supplied updates on what was happening at his end. It was a win-win arrangement for all of them—although Conrad insisted on paying them a substantial fee, as well.
Now Casey shot an impatient look at Emma.
“Are we talking about your candy striping again?”
“No.” Emma straightened up in her chair. “I can handle that. I’m even having a drink with Roger the loser later this week. What sucks is the way everyone is treating Madeline. She’s such a good person, she hasn’t done anything wrong and they’re treating her like crap.”
“I agree.” Casey was surprised and touched by Emma’s concern. The cocky little girl who’d walked in here a month and a half ago, thinking only of herself, had matured into a young woman who was showing compassion—and grit for sticking out her responsibility to Forensic Instincts.
One step closer to being an FI team member.
“I just don’t understand it,” Emma continued. “Madeline was barely in the O.R. when Ronald Lexington died. Why is she being named in this lawsuit? And why is the hospital dumping on her?”
Ryan walked in in time to hear Emma’s last comment and to respond to it. “Because Nancy Lexington is a vindictive bitch and because Jacob Casper is throwing everyone he can under the bus to save his ambitious ass.”
“Well, his ambitious ass is screwing Sharon Gilding,” Emma informed him. “She’s now the temporary chief of surgery. You should hear what the staff thinks about that.”
“I can imagine.” Casey was unsurprised by Emma’s announcement. Based on what Claire had sensed, she’d long suspected that the man having sex with Sharon Gilding was Jacob Casper. And Madeline had already told her about Bitch Doctor’s “temporary” promotion. It wasn’t hard to figure out what had precipitated that.
“She’s got him by the balls. No surprise there.” Ryan plopped a pile of printouts in front of Casey and Emma, all articles from the current online editions of tristate area newspapers.
“The media must have missed that hookup. But they didn’t miss much. Take a look at these,” he said.
Both women leaned over and read Patients Spooked by Rumors of Malpractice at Manhattan Memorial, Hospital Kills One of Its Own and Surgical Sloppiness at Manhattan Memorial.
“None of this is exactly a shock,” Casey said, frowning. “The media got wind of what’s going on and they’re running with it. They’re probably interviewing every staff member who’ll talk and every patient going in and out of the hospital.”