Hard To Breathe, page 34
part #2 of Drake Cody Series
Drake Cody would lose the one he loved.
It would be the first of the ways she would make him pay.
***
Clara left ICU four for last. She wanted to be out of the unit when things started. What had to happen deserved to happen, but Clara did not care to see it occur.
Rachelle Cody, ICU bay four, was asleep or sedated. Her nurse had just moved to the unit’s central desk. Clara made eye contact with the nurse, then held up her blood draw tray and pointed at bay four. The nurse nodded.
Clara moved to the bedside. The heart monitor beeped soft and at a moderate rate. The slim, dark-haired woman breathed easy. Unlike many patients' bays, no foul odor hung, only the Lysol-like tinge of disinfectant. The patient’s left arm lay free. There was a capped IV in the forearm with nothing running to it. Clara could draw blood from the arm with the IV port totally accessible.
She slipped the loaded syringe out of the tray and placed it under the edge of the sheet alongside the arm. Everything lay ready.
“Lab. Blood draw here,” Clara said.
The patient roused and turned trusting Bambi-eyes toward her.
“I'm from the Lab. I need to draw some blood. Can you tell me your name?” Clara checked the wristband.
“Oh, okay. I'm Rachelle Cody.”
“Your doctors have ordered tests. I'll be quick.”
“I understand. Thanks,” she said. “But I don't like to watch. Please tell me when you're done.” The pretty woman turned her head away.
Clara felt a twinge. The woman seemed so sweet. But Dan had been special, too. Things were setting up so perfectly this morning that it showed this payback was meant to be. She put on the tourniquet and then entered the vein with her first stick. Blood jetted into the tube. She deftly switched them filling five. She slipped the syringe from under the sheet, her breath coming fast. It would only take seconds to inject the powerful substances. Once inside the woman Drake Cody loved, no one would be able to stop her death.
Clara leaned to her left, shielding the IV on the forearm and connected the syringe to the IV hub. Her pulse raced. A sense of incredible power filled her. Drake Cody’s wife lay with her head turned, the pose exposing the scarred tissue of her neck above the patient gown. So helpless.
A twinge of holdback flickered. Then a thought of Dan. Never would she be with him again. She positioned her fingers on the syringe and placed her thumb over the plunger. The holdback was no more. She committed—
“Hey!”
The deep voice exploded over her shoulder. Clara flinched. Adrenaline flooded. She plucked the syringe free, sliding it into the sleeve of her white coat.
“Look here, now the lab-lady is doing it all.” The braying voice of Dr. Bart Rainey. She sensed his mass loom behind her. She almost gagged on his overpowering cologne as her throat clenched.
“Good morning, Mrs. Cody,” he said in a voice loud enough to be heard on the next ward. “I'm Dr. Bart Rainey. I'm a surgical colleague of Dr. Carlson of the Burn service. She's unable to get in due to the storm and asked me to check your burn.”
Drake Cody’s wife looked up at the surgeon. Clara kept her face averted, her heart a pounding hammer. Her hands trembled as she arranged the blood tubes. She could not breathe.
“I guess you must be a VIP—you have the boss vampire drawing your blood today. Did she do a good job?” No one joined in his hardy-har-har donkey laugh.
Clara put the tubes in the collection tray, nodded to Rachelle Cody, and exited.
***
The ICU doors whooshed shut behind her. Clara's heart remained in her throat, and her nerves felt as if superheated. She leaned against the wall and exhaled massively. She acted as if she were checking her lab sheet while her body recovered and her mind settled. Too close!
She’d been rash and careless. Hot-headed anger had almost cost her everything—so very nearly caught! And by the obnoxious surgeon, of all people. His megaphone voice had startled her more than anything in her life.
This was a lesson. She needed to be careful. Now was not the time to avenge her Dan.
Days, weeks, or even months—the time did not matter, but she would make those who took him from her pay. Perhaps harming Drake Cody’s wife would be wrong—her scars showed she’d suffered. Clara knew some scars didn’t show. She needed to think things through when the pain of losing Dan was not as raw.
Careful planning with no possibility of her getting caught. That's what her Dan would have wanted. He would be crushed if she suffered any further.
That was the kind of love they'd had.
Chapter 85
Conference Room
Drake remained in the darkened, back row of the conference room, his mind a whirl as Lloyd prepared at the podium. This meeting meant everything. The document Lloyd had passed to Kline for review by the university Board of Regents and the state Board of Medical Practice presented what Drake, in his dreams, hoped they might achieve.
Success would mean an agreement on the future of D-44 and, most important to Drake, his continued opportunity to practice medicine. The organizations he faced were huge and powerful, and the odds were against him, but he wasn’t alone. Lloyd impressed Drake more each day, and Rizz was Rizz—there was no doubt he’d give his all.
Drake looked at the clock. Rizz had not shown yet and it was five minutes past the scheduled time for the meeting.
The clunk of the door mechanism sounded. Drake looked up with hope.
Kline entered at the front of the room. He wore a dark suit with wide, padded shoulders and small epaulets adorning the lapels. A lean, tall, silver-haired gentleman entered at the same time. Trailing Kline and appearing to struggle with a computer bag and a heavy-appearing valise was a short woman Drake recognized as one of the hospital’s administrative assistants.
“This will do. Set up on this table,” Kline said to the woman. “We’ll sit at that one.” He indicated the adjoining table where Lloyd’s briefcase sat open. He turned toward Lloyd.
“I’ll take the head of the table with Dr. Regid, representing the state Board of Medical Practice, on my right.” Kline nodded toward the distinguished-looking man with the military bearing. “She,” he indicated the administrative assistant, “will set up and manage the technical aspects.”
Lloyd stepped forward from behind the podium.
“First off, let’s skip the sophomoric control tactics about who sits where. I’ll remind you my clients called this meeting. We—”
“I’ll remind you,” Kline said loudly, “this is my hospital—”
“No, Mr. Kline. It most definitely is not.” Lloyd spoke softly but stepped closer to Kline. “You are currently CEO and serve at the discretion of the hospital board. The issues to be decided are significant. Let’s not play games.” He shook his head.
The administrative assistant had pulled a laptop from the computer bag and now removed a camera and tripod from the valise.
“Regardless,” Lloyd continued, “this table won’t accommodate all of us when the rest of your contingent arrives.”
“I am our contingent.” Kline puffed out his chest. “The university regents will participate via one-way electronic audio-video link. I will communicate with them via my phone,” he indicated a Bluetooth earpiece, “and I’ll relay their demands.”
“You open the meeting with a false claim, try and play silly seating games, mention demands, and then tell me key parties in the negotiations will not be present—are you serious?” Lloyd’s eyebrows arched and his forehead furrowed. The big man made Kline and his faux shoulders look like a stick figure. Drake sensed Lloyd would like to throttle the pretentious CEO. Kline shrunk back.
“This does not feel like a good faith effort.” Lloyd shook his head. “It sets up a basis for later deniability. I’m going to recomm—”
“Lloyd.” Drake said as he joined the group and stepped to the head of the table. “Please. Just a moment.”
He turned to the older gentleman who’d been watching the exchange. Drake extended his hand. “Dr. Regid, thank you for coming. I’m Drake Cody. My apologies for the short notice and challenging nature of this meeting. A large amount of money and the hopes and dreams of me and my family are at stake.”
“I understand.” He shook Drake’s hand, his grip firm and cool. “I represent the state Board of Medical Practice and am chair of the Licensure Review Committee.” The ramrod-straight man met Drake’s gaze. “I’m not here about money or your dreams. I’m here to enforce the rules of medical licensure and uphold the responsibilities of the Board in safeguarding the public.”
“Of course, sir,” Drake said. The thought “tough old bird” ran through his head. “I know that among the fourteen members of your board, there are four who also serve as university leadership. Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“Is what Kline has said about the regents true?”
“I’m not acquainted with Mr. Kline, but I’ve discussed this meeting with my colleagues. Their participation is in good faith. The telemeeting arrangement was suggested to protect against use of out-of-context images or audio. Public relations concerns are paramount for the university. Frankly, the same is true of my board.”
“We wouldn’t do anything like that, but I understand the concern.” Drake paused, thinking without guilt that what he’d just said was a lie. He’d do anything short of harming innocent people to maintain his claim to D-44 and secure his dream of continuing to practice medicine. He turned to Lloyd. “I trust Dr. Regid’s assurance. Let’s get to the issues.”
Lloyd nodded.
While they’d talked, the assistant had set up the tripod on the adjacent table with the computer connected and devices plugged in. Lloyd slid his briefcase over and took his place on one side of the table. He indicated the spot across the table for Kline.
Kline and the physician sat—Kline facing Lloyd and Dr. Regid across from Drake.
“Are you ready?”’ Kline said to the assistant.
She nodded. “Audio and video clear.”
Kline adjusted his coat and patted his blow-dried hair, then adjusted his earpiece. The CEO seemed a harmless jerk, but he posed a major threat to Drake’s dreams.
Drake, Lloyd, and Rizz had discussed via phone their strategy for the negotiations. Drake had drafted the main elements of their plan while Rachelle battled infection in the ICU. He’d emailed it to Lloyd for translation into “legalese” and delivery to the university powers.
Drake checked the time—no word from Rizz. He held their ace in the hole. Was he coming? Drake started to sweat.
“Let’s get our business started,” Lloyd addressed the camera. “The communication Dr. Cody and I drafted and which I passed on to you through your representative,” he nodded toward but did not look at Kline, “contains a fair and reasonable offer.”
Kline leaned forward. “Fair and reasonable? Are you—”
“Mr. Kline, I was not addressing you.” Lloyd’s soft but crisp words shut up the arrogant CEO. “I’m asking for the response from the university Board of Regents.” He nodded towards the camera. “When they have a response we want to hear it. Understood?”
Kline’s face reddened.
Lloyd once more faced the camera. “Do you accept the offer on D-44 laid out in Dr. Cody’s document? He will sign an agreement sharing intellectual property ownership of D-44 with the university. The university will make the initial payment identified in the document and agrees to future revenue payouts if and when the drug reaches the market. The structure of such payments is identified in the document. That is the offer in front of you.”
Kline’s face looked like he’d drunk sour milk, but Drake knew the annoying administrator’s response mattered least. This decision would be made by the Board of Regents, the stewards of the university.
Lloyd had shown him the regents’ charter and annual budget. Listed second among their responsibilities was “Accept fiduciary responsibility for the long-term welfare of the University.” The school’s annual budget was greater than $3.5 billion.
Did they want to go to court and battle to claim the whole prize? Or would they accept a deal and work with Drake?
Lloyd faced Kline, “Have they relayed you their answer?”
Kline jumped to his feet and moved toward the door, speaking rapidly into the Bluetooth. “Don’t respond yet! You’ve got to listen to me...” He exited the door.
Silence. The faint smell of leather and cologne hung in the air. Kline’s absence creating a vacuum. Drake’s mouth went dry. His next effort meant more than anything to him, and he felt totally on his own. Somehow, his voice did not break as he addressed the imposing man across the table from him.
“Dr. Regid, I’ve been informed that the state medical board will terminate my medical license at tonight’s meeting. I beg you to reconsider.”
The doctor sat motionless, his unblinking eyes on Drake. Drake’s chest clenched. The older doctor let the silence stretch.
“I falsified documents regarding my past. I hid my conviction and the time I spent locked up. I lied in answering questions and swore it was the truth. But—”
“I’m familiar with your clear and multiple misrepresentations.” Dr. Regid’s face was stone. “Let’s call them what they are—lies. False statements on your application to medical school and every document thereafter—the facts are clear. The board and I will uphold our responsibility and enforce the rules we’ve been appointed to administer. I’m sorry.” His manner, age, and intensity combined to give Dr. Regid a daunting presence. This was a man who would not compromise what he believed in. He believed in the rules. Drake’s stomach sank.
He scanned the clock. Get here, Rizz! A bead of sweat trickled down Drake’s back.
“Sir, I respect your commitment to protecting the public and safeguarding our profession. The questions on the medical school application and other documents are intended to identify those who might abuse their power or misuse their position for personal gain. My arrest and conviction were an injustice. They do not reflect my character. I am totally dedicated to the care of my patients and being the best physician possible. If you can hold off making a decision until you learn the facts—”
“What is undeniable,” the older man’s expression remained unchanged but his eyes flashed, “is that you flat-out lied. You acknowledge lying, which is unethical and unprofessional conduct. I’m sorry but the facts—”
A red folder splatted onto the table in front of the doctor. He and Drake snapped their heads to Lloyd. The big man held Dr. Regid in his gaze.
“With all due respect, sir,” Lloyd said. “You need to know all the facts. Please reserve judgment until you’ve reviewed the material in the folder in front of you.”
“I don’t know the details of the criminal case, but it ended with a conviction. Nothing else is relevant. The repeated lies are a matter of record,” the doctor said. “I’m not sure that—”
Lloyd’s hand slapped the table, sounding like a rifle shot. They all flinched.
Lloyd looked embarrassed. “I apologize.” He took a deep breath. “Doctor, please. As is evident by my loss of control, I’ve become invested in this young man. For decades, I’ve lived the messy task of trying to get justice done. I’m sure your role on the state board forces you to do the same. If you’ll look at the material in that folder and consider Dr. Cody’s character, you’ll sleep better with your decision. Sometimes our rules say one thing, while justice demands another.”
The two veteran professionals sat with eyes locked like two bull moose taking the measure of the other. Drake found himself holding his breath.
Lloyd continued, “As different as physicians and lawyers are, the best thing either of us can ever do in our work is to get it right. Please, sir. Examine the material in the folder. It will help get it right.”
Dr. Regid put a hand on the red folder. His blue eyes were unflinching. His brow knitted. After a moment he nodded. “I’ll review this.” He patted the file. “But rest assured I will not compromise my responsibility.”
Drake let out his breath.
Lloyd had struck a spark from the flint of the dignified board member. The faintest glimmer of hope kindled in Drake’s heart.
The door clunked open and Kline reentered after his phone exchange with the regents. He sat. Drake could not read his expression.
“Do we have an agreement?” Lloyd said, facing the camera.
“Your clients are not in a position to offer anything.” Kline said. “Dr. Cody’s legal position is far from certain, and Drs. Rizzini and Malar have zero legitimate claim. You’re asking the university to assume all the costs and risk for the expensive path to possible FDA acceptance. And I remind you that the contents of the laboratory are in the university’s possession.” Kline straightened his collar and held his head high.
Drake met Lloyd’s eye. They’d considered the possibility of Kline or the university trying this bluff.
“We agreed we wouldn’t play games,” Lloyd said, now clearly facing the camera and slighting Kline. “I suspect this gambit was suggested by Mr. Kline and I urge you regents to disregard his contentious ploys. The initial payment and downstream dollars that our document identifies are more than fair. In fact, I have recommended against my clients entering into a contract that is so favorable to the university. But they believe that the poor faith shown in the seizure of their lab and subsequent developments are more the result of misguided representatives rather than the university itself.” Lloyd swiveled and stared hard at Kline.
Drake’s nerves were stretched hunting-bow tight. “I believe that the university is getting bad information. That’s why I made this offer.”
“No!” Kline jumped to his feet, his face flushed. He faced the camera. “There is no need to cut them in. We can win in court. They’re broke and can’t fight us. We have the advantage—they can’t get the drug to the market without our agreement. I have had more than enough of these...these,” he pointed at Drake, “damn doctors.”
