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Authors: Hannah Alexander

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BOOK: Sacred Trust
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Lukas closed the door.

“Lock it,” Clarence growled.

Lukas did so.

The big man visibly relaxed. “Thanks. Okay, Doc, let's get some stuff straight.” He tossed off the sheet and struggled to move his bulk to the side of the bed. He swung his legs over to the floor, then sat there for a moment huffing. “I don't want a doctor here.”

“You told your sister you would see me.”

Once Clarence caught his breath sufficiently, he inched closer to the side of the bed and anchored his hands on the edge of the mattress. “I only said that to stop her crying. Can't stand to see a lady cry.”

“Then you'd better go through with this, Clarence, because if you don't, she'll be crying again. You're in trouble and you know it. What's worse, she knows it.”

“I told you I can't pay, and you and I both know this one trip ain't gonna cut it. I'll have to go in for all kinds
of tests, maybe even surgery. I'm not gonna saddle Darlene with all those bills.”

“You won't have to.”

“How can you say that? They told me three years ago how much it would cost to fix me up, and I'm a lot worse now.”

Lukas took a deep breath. “You obviously qualify for aid.”

“No. No handouts.” He leaned forward and tried to push himself off the bed. He fell back, gasping.

Lukas stepped forward to help him.

Clarence held a hand up to ward him off. “I'll do it myself or I won't do it at all.” He leaned forward again, and this time made it to his feet. “Gotta go to the john. At least I can still do that for myself. Don't know how long it'll last.”

Lukas heard the man's labored breathing and itched to use a stethoscope on him. But first things first. “Have you been urinating more often lately?” he asked.

Clarence's sour breath filled the room as he puffed his way to the attached bathroom. “About twice as much, seems like. Maybe even more.”

“Thirsty a lot?” Lukas listened to the floorboards groan.

“Lots.” Clarence squeezed into the bathroom and closed the door.

Lukas reached into his medical bag and pulled out his stethoscope and his sphygmomanometer with a thigh cuff. He might as well be prepared.

The toilet flushed and the door opened. Clarence extricated himself from the bathroom and lumbered back toward the bed. Lukas could have heard him breathing from the far end of the house.

Clarence clutched his chest as he lowered himself to the mattress once more.

“Feels like someone is sitting on your chest, doesn't it?” Lukas observed.

Clarence continued to catch his breath. He nodded. “How'd you know?”

“I'm a doctor. You also seem to have a lot of difficulty breathing.” That was the understatement of the week.

“Some. I'm okay after I rest. You try carrying all this weight around for a while. You'd be out of breath, too.”

“Of course I would. Especially if I were in heart failure, had diabetes and a possible bowel obstruction. Your heart is straining to keep up with your body, and the angina pain indicates your coronary vessels are clogging up, probably due to high cholesterol and triglycerides.”

“Use English, Doc.”

“I'm saying you could have a heart attack at any time. All of it's treatable, Clarence, but time is your enemy right now.”

“How's that?”

Lukas stared at the man. Was he in denial? “We're talking life and death here, Clarence.”

“We all have to die sometime.”

Lukas felt a chill as he looked into the big man's eyes. They were not cold, hard eyes. They were a deep, warm brown. But he wanted to die. Darlene was right.

Clarence leaned forward. “Let me tell you something, Doc.” He kept his voice low. “Darlene's going to be okay once I'm gone. I made sure of it.”

“How can you say that?”

“Insurance.” He sat back with a nod of satisfaction. “They wouldn't carry me for medical, but they couldn't dump my death benefits. I paid them off before all this happened.”

“Do you really believe your sister would rather have your money than you?”

“She doesn't know what she really needs right now. I'm just a dead weight to her.” His face contorted in a humorless grin. “No pun intended.”

“Why don't you treat your sister like an adult and let her make her own decision about this?”

“I've always taken care of Darlene. I can't do this.” He gestured around him helplessly. “I can't live like this. It'll drain her dry, and then she'll die, too.”

“Not if you'll swallow some of that pride and let us help you. Clarence, what you're planning will destroy your sister.”

“No, it won't. She'll miss me for a while, but she'll be fine. She's a lot tougher than she looks.”

“Doesn't love count for anything with you?”

“Why do you think I'm doing this? Do you really think I look forward to dying? There's no other way.”

“Yes, there is. You have someone who wants to help you right here, right now, with no strings attached. I think you're worth it and I think your sister is worth it.”

“How can you think that? You don't know us.”

“You're a human being, and I hold human life sacred. Call it a sacred trust.”
Lord, show me how to reach this man. He's not listening to me. Will You speak to him Yourself, please? I'm not good at this kind of thing.

Clarence grunted.

Lukas sighed. “Look, Clarence, I risk losing my job by treating you, and Dr. Richmond is at risk of losing patients today because we care about what happens to you.”

“I didn't ask you to come here.”

“But we're here. Dr. Richmond is proving right now that she cares about your sister. What can it hurt? If you're
planning to die anyway, what's a little needle prick to find out what's going on in your body? It won't hurt nearly as much as a heart attack. What've you got to lose? We can't call out the national guard to drag you into the hospital if you don't want to go.”

For a moment Clarence seemed to waver.

“Won't you at least let me check you out?” Lukas asked. “Let me take some blood, a urine sample, listen to your chest and back, take your blood pressure. The tests won't cost you or your sister anything. I promise. Let me make up for some of the mistreatment you feel you've received from the medical profession before.”

Clarence looked at Lukas for a long moment. “No strings?”

“None.”

“I won't leave this house.”

“I wish you would, but we'll do what we can here for now.”

“What's in it for you and the lady doc?”

“Glory,” Lukas said drily, grinning. Then he sobered. “I can't just sit by and let someone die if there's something I can do to help. I think Dr. Mercy feels the same way in spite of her outward attitude.”

Clarence hesitated for another moment, then shrugged. “Okay, Doc, slap that cuff on and let's see what happens.” He held up a finger. “But I'm staying here.”

Chapter Fourteen

M
ercy checked Darlene's pulse oximetry after one breathing treatment with a portable Pulmo-Aide nebulizer unit. Ninety-four. Not perfect, but a little better. She only had a little expiratory wheeze now.

“Darlene, I wish you were breathing a little better, but I can leave you a Proventil metered dose inhaler. I want you to use two puffs every six hours, as needed. You're probably familiar with it, aren't you?”

Darlene nodded, her face set as it had been ever since they had left Clarence's room.

Mercy sat down beside her new patient. “I know you're worried about your brother, but you need to start thinking a little about yourself right now. He's responsible for his own health. You can't—”

“I realize I can't force him to take care of himself, Doctor,” Darlene said. “But I can't help trying.” She glanced at Mercy, then away. “You're acting just like all the rest. You don't understand Clarence. You don't know what he's been through—what we've both been through. Everyone's so quick to judge someone just because he's
heavy. They just see the outside, not the heart. You don't know why he is the way he is.”

“Why is any man—” Mercy caught herself and glanced at Darlene, chagrined. “Sorry, I didn't intend to bring my prejudices to work with me. Dr. Bower told me a little about your situation on the way here, and I understand…even admire the fact that you want to make your own way without state aid. I can't, however, agree to the extent Clarence has taken it. Doesn't he see what he's doing to you?”

“He thinks that if he dies I'll be free to live my own life again. He thinks he's going to die.” Darlene's eyes filled with tears. “So do I.”

“Maybe not if you'll let us help. I wonder how Dr. Bower is doing with him right now.”

Darlene shook her head. “Clarence is very stubborn.”

Mercy put a hand on Darlene's shoulder and squeezed. “They've been in there for quite some time, and I haven't heard any raised voices. I've found that Dr. Bower can be very good with patients.”

The door to Clarence's room opened and Lukas stepped out. “Dr. Mercy, may I have the venipuncture kit and blood tubes? I'll also need a specimen container for a UA.”

Mercy stood up and grinned at Darlene. “See what I mean?”

 

Jarvis George sat in his darkened office and hoped his phone would not ring. At two o'clock on Tuesday afternoon, it might not get too bad in the emergency room. With a little luck maybe no one would get sick or have a wreck or try to saw off a finger before someone took over at seven…whoever it was. Jarvis frowned. He didn't even remember who was coming…. Oh, yeah, it was Bower again.

He muttered an oath and opened the top drawer of his desk. He felt through the shadows for the little blister packages of Ultram. But did he really need them? The pain wasn't as steady as before, but the confusion was worse. For the first time in his life, he understood what patients meant when they said their symptoms fluctuated. Sometimes he felt almost normal, then another headache would attack, like an invisible monster stalking him. He felt so frustrated. He got so angry at the littlest things lately.

With the bare amount of light that seeped in past the heavy gold drapes at his plate-glass window, he glanced at the sheet of paper on the corner of his expansive desk. June had followed through on her promise to find out more about Lukas Bower at Cunningham. The unsatisfactory results caused more confusion, and Jarvis buried his face in his hands. Why keep pushing this? Why did he feel so much antipathy and fear over the new doctor? Just let it go.

But he couldn't let it go. Not only was Bower uncertified and undisciplined, his presence here posed a problem for the hospital, a change this community wasn't ready to make. Didn't they understand how much money it would cost them if Pinkley decided to hire more full-time physicians for the E.R.? The docs would all expect more money, raises every year. Knolls wouldn't be able to afford it, and then what? They'd be taken over, bought out by the big boys in Springfield or St. Louis, some moneygrubbing HMO that didn't give a rip about human lives. He hated that! He slammed his fist against the desk, then grimaced and grabbed his hand.

A sudden, soft knock at his door startled him and shot another wave of pain through his head. “Go away.”

He mouthed the words without sound, making no attempt to rise.

The knock came again. “Jarvis? You in there?”

Ivy.

Slowly Jarvis pushed his chair back and stood. He walked to the door and unlocked it, then turned on the light. The brightness made him wince, but he must not let Ivy see.

He pulled the door open and forced a smile. “My dear, you look wonderful.” She didn't. She looked haggard and worried. Dark circles still underlined her eyes, and her mouth came together in an uncharacteristic frown.

“Liar. Mind if I come in for a minute?” She stepped in without waiting for an invitation, as she had done for years. For the first time Jarvis felt a rush of irritation with Ivy, which he quickly covered. Everything irritated him lately.

She stepped over to the love seat that faced the long leather sofa. “You're going to be mad at me in a few minutes, so I'll say what I have to say and get it over with.”

He sat down on the sofa. “How could I possibly be mad at you?”

“Because you'll try to talk me out of going to Colorado, just like everyone else has done, and I'm going.”

“Then I won't even try. What did Dr. Walker say about your ticker?”

“It isn't angina. I don't have any artery blockage. It's a bundle branch block, just like Dr. Simeon told Mercy. I could've saved the insurance company a bunch of money.”

“What did he say about your backpacking expedition?”

“Not a thing.”

“He said you should go?”

“Nope.”

Jarvis turned his head and stretched his neck. He
wasn't up to these word games. He was tired. Why couldn't she just say what she'd come to say?

“Jarvis? You okay?”

“I'm fine. Ivy, you didn't tell him about your trip, did you?”

“No need. He said we can manage this with medicine, and I should be able to resume my regular exercise in a few days. Hiking is one of my regular exercises.”

“Not in high altitudes.”

“We're not going to be climbing that high.”

“You'll be in Colorado. It's all high altitude.”

“I'll get used to it.”

Jarvis shrugged, and the motion made him feel slightly nauseated. Could be the flu, but he'd felt this way a couple of times before and nothing had come of it.

“Jarvis? You don't look too great.”

“I'm fine. If you want to go on the trip, it's up to you.” He remembered the letter on his desk. “I have some information for you to think about while you're gone. Remember my friend June? She was going to get us something on Bower.”

“The nurse from Cunningham?”

“That's her. Great gal. She says administration there suspected Bower not only of endangering patient lives, but the reason they felt he was dangerous was because he was showing signs of bipolar disorder. Scary stuff if not treated, especially for a doc, so they had a meeting with him and he told them he was grieving over a death in the family. They instructed him to be seen by a psychiatrist. He made an appointment, then didn't show up. When his trainer asked why, Bower gave the excuse that no one would cover him for the appointment.”

“You mean he didn't get treatment?”

“Apparently not. About the same time Bower was accused of fathering the child of a certain nurse on staff, whose father just happened to be the head of the internal medicine department. Really stupid of Bower. He denied everything, of course.”

“He's manic depressive?”

“That was the accusation.”

“But did they prove it? Jarvis, these are serious charges. Did they prove these things about Dr. Bower?”

“Would they accuse him of all this stuff if it didn't have some basis in fact?” His head pounded, probably caused by guilt. “Would they have fired him if they couldn't prove it? They could get sued.”

“You're forgetting this is Missouri, a right-to-fire state. If they didn't directly list these things as a reason for his termination, he couldn't sue. Remember what Sal told you when we called him. He said Dr. Bower was not really popular with his colleagues because he was not a politician. Maybe he made some powerful enemies.”

Jarvis glared at Ivy. “Why are you defending him all of a sudden? You're the one who asked me to investigate him, remember?”

“Yes, but—”

“He comes in late, he is uncooperative and he's already endangered a life in our E.R.”

“How?”

“He chased off a pain patient, accusing him of drug abuse. The patient didn't get any help here. Do you know who that patient is? Just the son of one of our hospital board members, that's all.”

“Really? Who?”

“Now, Ivy, you know I can't—”

“Just tell me, Jarvis. You know I'll find out soon enough. Who?”

“Dwayne Little was the patient.”

Ivy gasped. “Bailey's son?”

“That's right. Bailey will have our hides over this, thanks to Bower.”

“How do you know Dwayne isn't into drugs? He's been arrested for drunk driving before. Alcohol's a drug, isn't it?”

Jarvis stiffened. “Alcohol is not illegal. Don't go dragging your husband's personal problems into this.”

Ivy jerked up and stared at Jarvis as if he'd slapped her. “How can you say that?”

Jarvis shrugged. That was a wrong move, but he didn't care. Why didn't she just leave?

“My husband was your best friend, Jarvis George. He made you an equal partner in his practice. How could you say that?”

Jarvis avoided her eyes. “Bailey Little and I have hunted together for twenty years. He didn't raise his son to do drugs.”

“How do you know? Dwayne didn't live with his father. He lived with his mother. I didn't raise Mercy to marry a no-good jerk like Theodore Zimmerman, but that didn't stop her.”

Jarvis glared at Ivy. “Life isn't always about you and your family, Ivy.” The force of his anger lifted him to his feet. “I'm talking about the future of this hospital with Bower on board. If you want to crack jokes about something this serious, you can do it somewhere else.”

For a moment Ivy didn't react, but stood staring at him as if she were stunned. “Jarvis, what are you talking about? I'm not joking.”

He stumbled and grabbed the back of the sofa. “You
said yourself that Lukas Bower is a dangerous man. He obviously has no moral integrity. I…I d-don't need your help to see justice done, but I did think I could count on you, of all people.”

Ivy's eyes narrowed. “Jarvis, what's wrong with you?”

“Nothing. What's wrong with you? You can't even see the truth when it slaps you in the face. When it kills your own mother.” He heard her swift intake of breath and was immediately sorry.

“Cancer killed my mother,” she said quietly. She stood up and took a step toward him. “You're sick.” She reached out and laid a hand on his arm.

He jerked away. “I'm the doctor, remember? I'm f-fine. You're the one who's sick and won't listen to your cardiologist. Go ahead and…t-take your stupid hike, but don't come crying to me if you wind up in some hospital in Colorado.”

BOOK: Sacred Trust
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