Strictly Business (12 page)

“
’cuse me doc, ’cuse me doc, how long do I have to wait?” The anxious patient on the stretcher questioned her.

“What are you waiting for sir?” Nina asked, taking his chart from where it was wedged
at the foot of his mattress.

“I need to get an MRI. I’ve been waiting for a while for someone to take me over.”

She hesitated briefly, her thoughts trying to stay focused on the patient’s question. A nurse walked passed and Nina stopped him to inquire about the patient’s delay. Apparently the escort department was short staffed today and they were backed up. She looked down at the patient and chewed her bottom lip. She didn’t like the idea of the gentleman waiting in the hall, but also an odd nagging curiosity demanded satisfaction.

“Cancel escort, I
’ll take him over. It’s just next door,” she said quickly before she could change her mind.

The nurse looked surprised
, but thankful.

Nina
replaced the chart and maneuvered the long stretcher through the doors of the emergency room and into the short corridor that led to the radiology wing of the hospital. She didn’t want to admit why she was doing this, but her palms grew warm with nervous energy and she kept her stride sure and determined. Her heart thudded unevenly in her chest and she almost scolded herself for her foolish actions. She slid her bar coded ID through a device outside the door and entered.

“
You got a license for driving that?” A deep voice teased her as she guided the stretcher through a set of large double doors.

Nina recognized the voice as belonging to Dr. Charles
. He was dressed in his customary scrubs, his fists braced casually on his lean hips. His curly blonde hair was tousled about his head, giving him a boyish look. She managed a smile and came to a stop in front of him.

“Escort’s backed up. I’m just helping out.”

“I’ll give you a hand.”

They chatted socially as they
propelled the stretcher down the hall. His relaxed nature put her nervous mind somewhat at ease. She realized that it had been a long time since she’d visited this part of the MRI wing. She remembered hearing about a renovation some time ago, but had never had the time to check it out. The floors gleamed brightly as if they were newly polished and the walls were lined with elegant textured paper. The signs above that indicated specific areas of radiology dangled from the ceilings on slats with elegant script writing.

She couldn’t help but notice the contrast to the ER where the décor was definitely dated and in need of remodeling. Even the lighting was different. Not the usual florescent hospital lighting, but soft natural light filtered in from tall windows and a large oval sky light. Comfortable plush furniture filled the waiting room and modern lithographs decorated the hall walls.

“Wow, this place is amazing,
” Nina observed, her eyes scanning the department.

“You haven’t been here since the remodeling?” he asked incredulously. “It’s great. It’s been almost a year now.”

“I don’t get out of the ER much,” she joked.

Dr. Charles gazed down at her, a knowing smile pulled at his lips.
“I know. I’ve tried to no avail to offer you extracurricular entertainment.”

She stared at him
. His gaze was warm and affable, but her nerves were still thrumming. Sensing a strange undercurrent, she looked away. She chided herself for being so suspicious and jumpy.

“When I grow up I want to become a radiologist,” Nina quipped, causing a large smile to crack his face.

“You should see the actual rooms wi
th the MRI machines. Impressive,” he stated proudly. “I can handle the patient from here. You can look around if you like.”

“Thanks.
”

She
was just about to turn up the hall when a large lacquered plaque hanging on the wall caught her attention. She felt a tickle of anxiety move through her as she read the sign that proudly claimed this area The Rob Lewis Center for Magnetic Resonance Imaging. There was a large portrait of Rob Lewis smiling proudly hanging next to the sign.

“Something the matter?” Dr. Charles questioned her, noticing her blank stare.

She indicated the plaque and he rolled his eyes. “The guy gives us a couple million dollars and now he owns the place.”

She
nodded thoughtfully, trying to soothe the burning that had started in her stomach.
So what?
So what if the department was renamed the Rob Lewis Center? That didn’t prove anything. That would be public knowledge. She tore her eyes away from the plaque and continued up the hall to one of the MRI reading rooms. Inside she found two of her colleagues, Dr. Frank and Dr. Daniels. They sat along a narrow ledge opposite a light box that covered the entire wall. Several MRI films were stuck to the light box with various body parts illuminated. When they saw her in the hall they invited her in with broad friendly smiles.

Nina told them that she hadn’t been to the MRI suite since the renovations
. They beamed proudly and proceeded to show off the wonders of their sparkling white MRI machines as if they were showing off their newborn babies. She looked on with interest, but inside her stomach churned uneasily.
What was she doing? Had she gone mad?
Just looking at the kind eager faces of the two radiologists beside her made her feel like a fool. There was no way that any of the doctors here could be capable of what Wade had alleged. She thanked them and stood up to leave when Dr. Frank stopped her.

“Take a look at the clarity of this film. It’s amazing!” He handed her an MRI film of a left hand.
She looked at the illuminated details and had to admit that it was a great picture. She fought to steady her hands as she held it.

Just then Dr.
Daniels got called out of the room, and Dr. Frank stood up to switch off the light box. Nina quickly flipped the film over and almost gasped as the raised letters R.L. came into acute focus before her bulging eyes. She dropped the film onto the table as though it had burned her hand and stood motionless. Dr. Frank’s gaze assessed her. She mumbled something about needing to go and scrambled from the room. She slipped into an empty MRI office nearby, and closing the door took a deep calming breath.

Jumbled thoughts vied for space in her brain. A feeling of dread came over her like she’d stepped
from sunlight into a shadow that wrapped around her like a smothering blanket. Glancing about the small room, she saw a computer terminal on a table. Before she could analyze and suppress the idea that bloomed in her head she was sitting in the chair punching at the keyboard.

She realized that her palms were sweating as she jabbed at the back arrow that allowed her to scroll through the lengthy list of patients that had had MRIs done in the hospital over the last three months.
She didn’t know what she was looking for, but she was compelled to keep going. Her eyes landed on a familiar name and she pulled up the patient’s profile. This was a patient she’d treated about three months prior. She remembered him fondly. His case had been a heart wrenching one for her. Despite many rounds of treatments and antibiotics, Mr. Smith had suffered from a long debilitating bout of congestive pneumonia.

He
had required many X-rays and diagnostic tests while he was in the hospital. Sadly, he’d been without any family or support and Nina had visited him daily to sit and talk, or just hold his hand. As she continued to peruse his information, she pulled up a file of his MRIs. She slowly scanned the screen, training her eyes for anything out of the ordinary. Top right was his name and date of birth. In the middle of the screen were miniature views of his MRIs in different sequences and on the bottom right were dates that the MRIs had been printed. She stared intently, but could discern nothing out of the ordinary. A brief shadow flitted across her brain, something peculiar and cloudy, but before she could chase and unveil it, she went ice cold.

Voices from the corridor sent her on instant alert and she froze. As the voices grew closer she punched fu
riously at the keyboard, trying to close the program running on the screen in front of her. She would have no excuse for being sequestered in this room, let alone logging into this system. The slow computer gave the symbol that indicated it was processing her request, and she almost passed out from a rush of fear that made her lightheaded. She could hear the voices right outside her door and her heart thumped wildly in her chest.

Finally the computer shut off and the screen went dark.
She issued silent thanks and bolted from her chair. She hovered on the inside of the door, trying to figure out what direction the voices were coming from. She cursed Wade for the millionth time that day then chastised herself for allowing him to plant doubt in her brain, making her question her colleagues. She’d found nothing aberrant. So what if his client’s film had RL stamped on it? That didn’t prove anything.

She wiped pearls of perspiration from her forehead and issued a breath of relief as the voices
faded down the hall. She slipped out of the room, pulled the door close behind her, and turned to look directly into cold gray eyes.

“Well, what are you doing here?” Dr. Reynolds smiled, but his eyes were clear shards of ice.

“I was dropping a patient off from the ER. I was just using a phone in the office to return a page.” N
ina was surprised at how smooth her lie was given her inner turmoil.

“I see,
” he said slowly. “How are things going over there…the ER?”

“Very well, thanks.”
She shifted her weight uncomfortably and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. She didn’t like the way Dr. Reynolds was peering down at her. His disarming eyes were fixed on her as though she was a specimen under a microscope.

“Good. Good,
” he said quietly.

An awkward moment of silence passed
, and finally she said, “Well, I better get back over.” 

With that she turned and walked down the hall, acutely aware of his eyes on her back, in fact she suddenly felt like every eye in the department was on her.
She shivered. Dr. Reynolds always seemed devoid of emotion. It unsettled her. His eyes were dead. Nina faltered in her step, her heart skidding to a stop.
Dead!
That was it—the shadow that had briefly clouded her brain. Her patient from three months ago had succumbed to his pneumonia. Mr. Smith had died after being a week in the hospital. The date on the computer showing when his MRI had been printed had been long after his death. Why would someone need to print a dead man’s MRI?

Nina walked into her apartment and headed straight for the raspberry tea—kicked up several notches. She needed to sit quietly and sort out the muddled noise in her head. Her thoughts were disquieted with confusion and doubt.
Why would those films have been printed? Who would be interested in them?
She didn’t recall any discussion of Mr. Smith’s case after he’d expired. The MRIs would have become part of the hospital’s data bank and stored in medical records.

She
found no logical answers to her questions. Her thoughts twisted and turned and weaved through countless scenarios, but in the end nothing made sense, in the end she had no answers to her questions, except one which she was loathe to accept.

She wondered what had possessed her to go to the radiology department
, and better yet, what impulse had caused her to log on to the computer and search through the hospital’s data bank of MRI’s. Nina sighed heavily, draining her teacup. She knew exactly what had driven her. It was the voice of her conscience, the one that always sought the truth and kept her balanced.

Her mission at first was to prove Wade wrong, to appease that annoying voice in her head that kept saying...
what if
? Instead it had led her down a path that ended in doubt and suspicion, that questioned everything she believed in.

What if Wade was right about his theory? What if patients weren’t getting the appropriate medical care they deserved?
Could she live with herself knowing that? She squeezed her lids tight as the full implications soaked in and compassion burned her eyes. How could a person who takes a medical oath do such a thing? She’d always been so righteously proud of her profession, so honored to be among a group of healers and it angered her that someone would take advantage of the trusted position to cash in on their greed.

She curled up on her couch and pulled her favorite patchwork quilt over her shoulders as a cold jet from the air conditioner settled over her. She’d been a fool for letting herself fall for Wade romantically. He’d created the illusion of a passionate relationship and maybe an interest in even something more. He’d awakened her body the way no man had ever done before, and she ruefully admitted that given the way her heart still ached with longing despite his sophistry, he’d awakened it as well. He’d even shown her a side of herself that she hadn’t known existed, a wilder, riskier side that wasn’t afraid to be impulsive.

Their exchange in the restaurant had been uncomfortable
, but at the same time surprisingly thrilling. If someone had told her three weeks ago that she’d be in a public place seductively nibbling at a man’s finger she would have referred him or her to a psychiatrist. Now
she
was the one who needed her brain examined!