She turned to Emma. “What’s the inside scoop?”
“Nothing good,” Emma stated flatly. “I listen and I ask questions. The bottom line is that patients are canceling elective surgeries. The surgical suites, which are normally SRO, are half-empty. Surgeons who have multiple hospital affiliations are opting to do their surgeries at other facilities—at the request of their patients.”
Ryan nodded. “From what I’m seeing from the internal emails shooting back and forth is that the hospital board has told inside and outside counsel to work faster. More lawyers. More paralegals. Everyone’s hours are being cut back to save money, which is scaring the shit out of staff members already afraid of losing their jobs. The surgical nurses are especially hard hit because that department is limping due to the effects of the lawsuit and the ensuing media feeding frenzy.”
“Yeah, and candy stripers are being asked to do more and more work,” Emma added, rolling her eyes. “There’s nothing like using slave labor to save money.”
“And Madeline is right in the middle of this.” Casey ran a frustrated hand through her hair. “Not only is she being treated like a pariah, she’s less safe than she was at home. No matter how thorough Patrick’s security is, Madeline is a sitting duck throughout her entire shift. I don’t like it any more than Marc does.”
“Would it help if I knew exactly what information the hospital was trying to dig up?” Ryan asked.
“Absolutely. What did you have in mind?”
“I can deploy keystroke logging software on all the major players’ computers. They won’t have any idea what’s going on, and by knowing every key that they press, we’ll be able to see what information they’re compiling against Madeline and Conrad.”
Casey gave an emphatic nod. “Do it.”
“Done. When is Conrad being questioned?” Ryan asked.
“Yeah,” Emma echoed. “Isn’t it time he gets his share of the heat?”
“It’ll be soon. But his lawyer is delaying that as long as possible,” Casey replied. “The Westfields’ attorney is still gathering ammo to initiate defamation of character lawsuits. He needs to find a way to subpoena that audio file Jacob Casper made when Madeline took him on. There’s verbal confirmation on that recorder. And there’s verbal confirmation Ryan has on the audio recording of Nancy’s voice, but she’s hardly a reliable source.”
“Why don’t you let Marc loose to get a copy of what’s on that digital recorder?” Ryan asked.
“If it comes down to it, I will. I’m just buying time.”
“Yeah, well, time is one thing we’re running out of.”
* * *
Trix was thinking much the same thing.
The walls were starting to close in. Once the next steps were taken, it was only a matter of days, maybe hours.
If only there was a strategy guide to life. The anticipation was lethal, knowing that it could b
e Game Over any second. The odds were stacked in this Boss Battle—and not in Trix’s favor. Which meant that the likelihood of victory was slim, and there were no extra lives, no second chances. Trix needed some Jack, hold the Coke.
Time to abort mission.
Time for a Hail Mary.
Trix fired up the Tor Browser. No cookies. No browsing history on the computer. Trix was too smart and too careful to leave electronic footprints.
Anonymity was now ensured. No one could know about this. No one would be able to trace this. Not ever.
The worst was about to become reality. An emergency exit was needed.
Six words were typed into the start page search bar: Criminal Defense Attorney, New York City.
28
DAYS HAD PASSED. Janet was worn out and disgusted.
This damned lawsuit was dominating every minute of her time. And it had yet to go to court. By the time this bloodbath was over, Nancy Lexington would be dead of old age and unable to reap the joys of her revenge.
And Madeline was a new thorn in Janet’s side, insisting on reporting for all her shifts and intensifying the tension throughout the hospital—especially with Jacob. Couldn’t she have just stayed home and out of the way?