Текст книги "Death by Request"

Автор книги: Jaden Skye

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Cindy was startled. This hardly seemed like a place filled with poison arrows.

“This case seems to have created quite a stir,” Cindy murmured.

“Right from the start,” Beatrice was exasperated. “We’ve been warding off reporters from day one.”

“Is that because Tara and Owen were so well known?” asked Cindy.

“Not necessarily,” said Beatrice, “it was because the accident was so gruesome and dramatic. And, because the patient remained in a coma for so long. People started wondering if she would ever come out of it. It became a guessing game.”

“She never did, did she?” asked Cindy.

“Well, if you check the records,” Beatrice breathed heavily, “you’ll see that there is no medical record of the patient having come out of the coma. But naturally, when a patient is in a coma for a long while people begin to assume all kinds of things. Some say Tara did come out. That’s because, due to reflex responses, at times it can seem if patients are talking, smiling or even waving. But they aren’t.” Beatrice looked at Cindy then carefully, to make sure she understood.

“I can understand all the confusion,” Cindy remarked cautiously.

“Good,” said Beatrice then, “I’m glad I’m talking to a sane person at least.”

“Are there insane people involved with the case?” Cindy was fascinated.

“It’s not up to me to evaluate an individual’s sanity,” Beatrice carefully bypassed Cindy’s question. “Naturally, the family was devastated as the process went on and on. It was a huge strain on everyone, including the staff.”

“Why the staff?” asked Cindy, surprised, “because of the attention by reporters?”

“Yes, that, of course, and also the reaction of the patient’s husband,” Beatrice breathed. “He never left the room, slept, bathed, and ate in that spot for two months.” Then Beatrice looked up at Cindy to see what she thought of that.

“He sounds extremely devoted,” Cindy remarked.

“Or extremely nervous to leave Tara alone,” Beatrice responded. “Owen watched over everything each nurse did as though she were coming to take his precious wife away. Finally, he wouldn’t even allow Tara to have a night nurse. He said he’d take the night shift himself.”

“All the more reason to feel that he didn’t do it,” Cindy said carefully.

“Not necessarily,” Beatrice leaned closer. “The strain on him, too, was beyond belief. How long can one keep going on like that? It’s entirely possible that he snapped.”

“Anything is possible, of course,” said Cindy. “But that’s an assumption; it’s not evidence to have him locked up.”

Beatrice looked at Cindy harshly. “I’m not suggesting my remarks are evidence of anything. I’m just filling you in. If you’re speaking of hard, cold evidence, there’s none of it. There’s no possible way of determining who put the lethal substance into the patient’s IV. None at all. There were many who felt relieved when she finally passed.”

“Someone knows though,” Cindy murmured, half to Beatrice and half to herself.

“What’s that you’re saying?” Beatrice leaned closer.

“I believe someone knows, who put the substance into the IV,” Cindy repeated more clearly.

“What do you base that upon?” Beatrice seemed momentarily frightened.

“I base it upon investigating many cases,” Cindy reported. “When we dig long enough, we always find someone who knows the answer, someone who’s seen something crucial. I’ve grown to count on it.”

Beatrice tossed her head back. “Well, that’s out of my domain, I wouldn’t know. My job is to oversee the nurses here. I’m head nurse on this floor, that’s all.”

“That’s quite a lot,” said Cindy.

“I like my job and I’m good at it,” Beatrice looked Cindy straight in the eye.

“I’m sure you are,” said Cindy. “You’ve had so much experience with patients in comas. Did you think Tara would come out of it and be okay?” Cindy decided to suddenly throw Beatrice a curve ball.

The question jostled her. “Of course it depends what you mean by okay,” Beatrice remarked. “I’ve seen patients recover fully after a lengthy coma, but more commonly they’re left impaired. Often the family feels it’s kinder to let them go.”

“Are you suggesting someone from the family did this?” Cindy pushed on.

“I’m not suggesting anything of the kind,” Beatrice was on the alert. “I’m telling you that your questions are all open ended and have no answers, just suppositions.”

“But Tara Danden was murdered,” Cindy reminded her forcefully. “Someone actively took her life.”

“You can view it that way if you choose to,” Beatrice shuddered slightly.

“It has nothing to do with whether or not I chose to,” Cindy replied. “There are facts in the case.”

“You can view euthanasia as murder, or as compassionate action,” Beatrice replied forcefully.

“That’s not up to me, it’s up to the courts,” Cindy stated. “And right now a man who well might be innocent is being held for a crime.”

“I’m aware of that,” said Beatrice, suddenly tired.

“Do you think Owen killed his wife, Beatrice?” Cindy asked bluntly.

“I have absolutely no idea about that,” Beatrice responded tartly, unwilling to get pulled in. “If you ask other nurses or aids on the floor they’ll each tell you something different. It’s all gossip, rumors, speculation. No one knows, and that’s a fact.”

“I really need to speak to Alana, the nurse in charge of Tara’s care,” Cindy changed the topic abruptly. She had to take the next step.

Beatrice placed her hands flat out on the desk. “Alana happens to be home sick today, believe it or not.”

“What’s wrong with her?” asked Cindy disconcerted.

“I have no idea. This is the first time Alana’s ever called in sick,” Beatrice continued. “Frankly, I’m as surprised as you. I think someone told her you were coming.”

Cindy was taken aback. “Who? Are you suggesting that Alana doesn’t want to talk to me?”

“I didn’t say that,” Beatrice repeated. “Just that she’s suddenly ill, though she looked perfectly fine to me yesterday. I believe you and Mattheus went to some hospital party last night, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” said Cindy, wondering what that had to do with anything.

“Well, I’m sure Alana heard about it,” Beatrice said flatly. “If you ask me, it seems like Alana figured it would be convenient to be sick now for a few days while you are in town.” Then Beatrice gave Cindy an odd glance.

Cindy wondered what she was actually trying to tell her. “I’d like Alana’s home address and phone,” said Cindy. “I’ll contact her myself immediately.”

“Absolutely not,” Beatrice replied instantly. “I’m not at liberty to give that to you.”

“But this is a murder investigation,” Cindy insisted.

“Alana’s home is off limits,” said Beatrice. “You’ll have to wait until she returns to work.”

“You’re protecting her?” Cindy felt dazed.

“I’m doing my job,” said Beatrice.

“Getting in the way of a murder investigation,” Cindy suggested.

“Not at all. I’m in my legal rights here,” Beatrice snapped.

But Cindy wouldn’t let it go at that. She needed more from Beatrice.

“In your professional opinion would you say that Alana was a good nurse?” Cindy probed.

“Good or not is beside the point,” Beatrice dodged the question. “Alana has a right to her privacy. And yes, she is a good nurse. She did a fine job with Tara, no one would dispute that.”

Then why won’t you let me talk to her, Cindy wondered.

“Okay, I think that’s enough for today,” Beatrice pulled her chair back suddenly, “unless there’s something else you need to know.”

Cindy was far from ready to end the interview though. “What about Tara’s family?” she pushed forward. “Which ones were in Tara’s room the most?”

Beatrice looked at Cindy coolly. “As I was not the nurse on the case, that’s not something I can tell you,” she replied. “Alana will help you with that, or some of the nurse’s aides who worked with her. Will that be it? I have a lot to take care of.”

Of course Beatrice was busy, had a lot of responsibility, but Cindy still wondered why she was so eager to end the interview.

“For now,” said Cindy.

Beatrice looked surprised, as she stood up. “There’s truly nothing further I have to tell you.”

Cindy stood up as well, “Things come up when you least expect them to,” she replied. “I’ll stay in touch, if you don’t mind.”

Beatrice neither consented nor refused, just walked to the door, opened it and stepped out as if a great load had been taken off her chest.

*

After speaking with Beatrice Cindy was more determined than ever to get Alana’s contact information. This was no time for playing games or going by official rules. As time went by and the case was unsolved, Owen became more and more entrenched as the suspect.

Cindy went back to the main desk to see who else she could talk to. The receptionist who’d been there before was gone and a young, spry, Jamaica man sat at the desk, taking calls and handling paperwork.

“Hi,” Cindy came up to him brightly, “I’m Cindy Blaine, here to investigate Tara Danden’s case.”

“Oh sure,” his eyes lit right up. “I heard of you. We all did.”

“I’d like to speak to some of the aides on the floor who worked in Tara’s room,” Cindy said naturally, as though it were a matter of course.

“Sure thing,” he agreed, picking up the phone and buzzing someone. “Gloria, you got a second? Someone up front wants to talk to you. Great.” Then he hung up. “She’ll be here in a second. I’m glad to help. My name is Skip.”

Cindy liked Skip immediately and he liked her. “I really appreciate your help, Skip,” Cindy said in a heartfelt manner. “Right now I need all the help I can get.”

“So do we all,” he whispered back.

“I especially need help with Tara,” Cindy stepped closer to the desk.

Skip’s eyes got wide. “Tara’s gone now,” his voice dropped. “You think she needs help now wherever she is?”

“No, I didn’t mean that,” said Cindy quickly, shivering. “I mean I need help finding out who put the substance in her IV.”

Skip flinched. “That was a horrible thing, terrible,” he exclaimed. Cindy was surprised to see how strongly it affected him.

When a person’s in a coma for a long time, a bunch of us from the hospital pray for

them every morning in the day room, over there,” he quickly said.

Cindy was startled. “That’s really lovely,” she said, touched.

“It makes a big difference, believe me,” Skip went on.

“I’m sure it does,” said Cindy.

“A lot of times we even see the blood pressure settle down after we pray,” he went on.

Cindy was impressed by this young man. She’d heard that many Jamaicans were religious, but it was especially uplifting to talk to someone who took his faith so seriously.

“We all felt Tara was going to make it,” Skip went on, sensing Cindy’s interest. “God is the healer, God can heal everything.”

“Not this time, though,” said Cindy sadly.

“You don’t know that for sure,” Skip interrupted. “How do you know what really happens in a coma?” He looked deeply at Cindy, as if he were trying to make a point.

“I don’t know, of course,” said Cindy feebly.

“For all we know the patient was recovering, just taking a rest, that’s all,” he said.

Cindy barely knew what to make of what he was saying.

“Some people even think that’s what happens after someone passes away,” Skip was on a roll. “It can be beautiful afterwards, healing continues. Some are way better off there.”

That was hard for Cindy to absorb. She immediately thought of her sister, Ann. Was she better off now, was she healing and happy?

“But we can’t know what happens for sure, can we?” Cindy breathed,

“Sure we can,” Skip smiled.

“If we can know something like that, then why can’t we know who ended Tara’s life?” asked Cindy.

“We will,” said Scott, “believe me. Someone here knows everything.”

“Who?” asked Cindy, mesmerized.

“You’re doing what’s right. God is on your side. Don’t give up, keep looking,” Skip whispered.

“Do you have any ideas?” asked Cindy.

“Not really,” Skip replied. “They didn’t let most of us go into the room. We just heard things from the nurses and aids. Talk to them,” Skip looked over his shoulder. “There are lots of different opinions floating around.”

“Is Gloria a good one to talk to?” asked Cindy.

“Yeah, she’s perfect, she’s the best,” Skip said, as a short, plump woman in her early forties ambled down the floor. “Hey, Gloria, over here,” he waved to her, “come meet Cindy Blaine.”

Gloria came over to the desk, smiling at Cindy, “How do you do,” she said.

“Cindy’s here to find out about what happened to Tara,” Skip said quickly.

Gloria rolled her eyes. “Come down to the cafeteria with me for lunch,” she said to Cindy, “and we can talk.”

“Talk in public?” asked Cindy, “it’s okay?”

“Sure,” said Gloria, “why shouldn’t it be? We’re not hiding from anyone.”

Skip winked to Cindy, as she waved good bye before going to the elevator with Gloria for lunch.

*

Even though it was lunchtime the cafeteria was mostly empty. Cindy loaded her tray with an egg salad sandwich, yogurt, salad and two large iced teas. Her head was spinning and she wanted the comfort a big lunch would give.

“Boy, you’re hungry,” said Gloria, who just took a bowl of vegetable soup and lead Cindy to a table for two near a big window.

“This place is practically empty,” Cindy remarked, “how come?”

“There’s hardly ever anyone here,” said Gloria, sitting down. “Most of the guests order food in from a fine restaurant down the road and eat in private rooms reserved for them.”

Once again the hospital seemed strange to Cindy. “Thanks for taking the time to talk to me,” she said to Gloria.

“It’s my pleasure,” said Gloria, “I’ve been one of the main aides on the case and have been wanting to talk to someone for a long time.”

“You didn’t speak to the police?” asked Cindy, surprised.

Gloria shook her head. “Alana and the head nurse did. But police and reporters don’t bother with the aides.”

“It’s their loss,” said Cindy.

“You can say that again,” said Gloria, “cause I was in the room a lot. And aides know things that even the family don’t.”

Cindy bit into her sandwich feeling ravished and tremendously sad.

“When you work with coma patients, you see lots of things,” Gloria took a big spoonful of soup and grinned at Cindy, exposing a missing front tooth. “I’m sure you know that Owen never left the room. It became annoying to the nurses. He was normal when there were visitors, but when visitors were gone he became weird.”

“How?” Cindy was transfixed.

“Owen kept saying how beautiful Tara was once and that she’d never be beautiful again. Sometimes he’d say it right close up to Tara’s ear. It bothered Alana a lot. One day she told the idiot to cut it out. Alana said Tara was still beautiful and always would be. Owen shook his head and kept repeating that it was finished now, Tara would never be beautiful again. It was depressing as hell.”

“Sounds like he was devastated by the accident,” said Cindy, trying to make sense of it. “He couldn’t stand to see what had become of his wife. You don’t think he actually helped her die, do you?”

“Not at all,” Gloria muttered. “Just another sickie with a lot of money and no brains. If you ask me, I believe someone in the family did it.”

“Who did it and why?” asked Cindy, fascinated.

Gloria lifted the bowl of soup to her mouth and finished it all in one gulp. “I always tried to cheer up the family when they came to visit. I tried to tell them how Tara was doing, but none of them would give me the time of day. They didn’t want to hear a word I said. And I had important information, believe me”

“What information?” Cindy began to feel afraid.

“A few times I saw Tara open her eyes late at night and look around the room,” Gloria whispered in a grating tone. “She was here, she was back, I told them. But they wouldn’t listen.”

“They probably thought it was just a reflex,” Cindy uttered.

“No, it wasn’t a reflex,” Gloria was adamant. “I told them I even heard her speak.” Gloria began breathing heavily, “but not one asked me what Tara said. And her stupid father brushed me away like a fly.”

“It scared them,” Cindy exclaimed, “it didn’t make sense.”

“But at least they should have asked what their daughter said,” Gloria insisted. “Anyone who cared would have asked that.”

“What did Tara say?” asked Cindy, terrified to hear.

“Tara told me she wanted to die,” Gloria whimpered. “She said, let me go, let me go, I beg you. I heard her like we’re speaking right now.”

“What did you say to her, Gloria?” Cindy was totally caught up.

“II didn’t know what to answer. So, I just said, when the time is right honey, when the time is right.”

Cindy shivered all over. “Who else did you tell this to, Gloria?”

Gloria flushed, elated that someone finally took her seriously. “I told it to Alana, I told it to Owen. I even told it to Dr. Padden. No one cared a thing about what I said. They just kept Tara hooked up to the tubes and machines, hanging onto life. Then I finally told Tara’s daughter.”

“Who?” Cindy was aghast.

“Tara’s daughter, Loretta,” Gloria repeated, her eyes narrowing.

“What are you talking about? I didn’t know Tara had a daughter,” Cindy couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “No one said a thing about that.”

“Yeah, Tara had an estranged daughter, Loretta, from a marriage before Owen,” Gloria was thrilled to be sharing the information. “No one talks about Loretta, it’s like she doesn’t even exist. But I talked to her. Loretta went to live with her real father a long time ago and left the whole, sick family behind. Then she read about the accident and came back to see her mother one more time.”

“Why didn’t anyone say anything about Loretta?” Cindy still couldn’t get over it.

“It doesn’t matter why,” Gloria grew more heated. “I sat with Loretta the night before Tara died and told her what I’d heard her say.”

Cindy felt chilled to the bone. “How did Loretta react?”

“She really listened to me, too,” Gloria went on. “She was the only one who did. In fact, she asked me to tell her over and over.”

Cindy froze from head to foot. Could Loretta hold the key to Tara’s death? “Where is Loretta now?” Cindy’s heart was pounding.

“I have no idea,” said Gloria, “but I’m sure she’ll be staying around for the cremation. She told me she wanted to be here for that. The cremation will be in a day or so, as soon as the final medical report is in. “

“Gloria, I can’t thank you enough for this,” Cindy grabbed her hands.

“Finally, someone’s grateful,” Gloria flushed. “Finally, someone listened.”

“I need Alana’s address right away” said Cindy, hopeful Gloria would have it. “I want to talk to her immediately. Can you give it to me?”

“I don’t have it,” Gloria replied, “but I’ll tell you how to get it pronto. I’ll walk you to the office that handles hospital records. Just go in and tell them you’re Alana’s friend and she sent you to pick up a copy of her profile. Tell them she wants to change something on it. They’ll give it to you, no questions asked. Alana’s address and phone are on it.”

Cindy was horrified. “How is that possible? Just walk in and get the information? How do you know the office will believe me?”

“They will,” Gloria insisted. “People who work here need all kinds of papers and nobody makes it hard for them. The help at this hospital take care of each other. If you go in and ask for something, they’ll give it to you just like that.”

“Is that legal?” asked Cindy. “Doesn’t it cause trouble?”

“So far it hasn’t,” remarked Gloria. “Not that I’ve heard, anyway.”

Chapter 9

Cindy returned from the hospital in the mid afternoon with Alana’s contact information grasped in her hand. As Gloria said, it had been easy to get it, and that alarmed Cindy as much as anything else in this case. What was actually going on in this hospital? There was definitely not sufficient oversight of protected personal information here. How else was the hospital remiss?

Cindy stepped out onto the balcony of her hotel room with a thousand other questions tumbling through her mind. She stopped and ran her hands through her hair, trying to calm down. So many new possibilities were suddenly emerging. How could it be possible that Tara had a daughter Loretta that no one mentioned? Why hadn’t Loretta been present when Cindy and Mattheus met the family? Where was she now and what else could the family be hiding? Had Loretta believed what Gloria told her and with all good intentions helped her mother die? Cindy couldn’t wait for Mattheus to return from the police station and go over everything with him. She had no intention of contacting Alana before she did.

*

By the time Mattheus returned from the police station and was with Cindy out on the balcony, she’d had time to take a shower and absorb her visit to the hospital and all the new information she’d received.

“How did it go?” Mattheus asked as soon as he joined her.

Cindy hardly knew where to begin. “I have Alana’s contact information here,” she started, “but I got it in a crazy way. The head nurse wouldn’t give it to me, but anyone can go into the hospital office and get any record they want. No questions asked.”

“That’s not possible!” Mattheus was startled.

“But that’s what happened,” said Cindy. “An aide at the hospital, Gloria, told me how. I walked in to an office, said I was a friend of Alana’s, picking up her hospital profile for her. I said she wanted to make a few changes. They gave it to me without a question asked.”

“That’s illegal,” Mattheus was horrified. “It wasn’t smart to go along with it, Cindy.”

“That hospital is a world of its own,” Cindy continued, “there’s all kinds of strange things going on there.”

“I realize,” said Mattheus quietly, “I’ve been researching it all day long.”

By now the light of the day was beginning to fade and Cindy started to feel dizzy.

Mattheus came a little closer and looked at her carefully. “My God,” he said, “you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Actually I have,” Cindy responded, anxious to tell Mattheus about Loretta, Tara’s long, lost daughter who neither of them had known anything of.

“Before we go any further, let’s call down for dinner,” Mattheus said. “We need it.”

“Order me whatever you like,” said Cindy as she stretched out on a lounge chair and began to relax now that Mattheus was here.

Mattheus called downstairs, ordered dinner and then went inside to bring out two cool glasses of sparkling water for them.

“Okay, what kind of ghost did you see?” Mattheus asked, slightly smiling as he sat down on a lounge chair beside Cindy, waiting for dinner to come.

“Mattheus, Tara has a long lost daughter, Loretta, who came to the hospital to see her mother,” Cindy began, relieved to be sharing the news.

“What?” Mattheus sounded as startled as Cindy had felt.

“She’s probably still around,” Cindy continued, “waiting for her mother’s cremation.”

“Who told you this?” Mattheus asked, unnerved. “Why hasn’t anyone else mentioned it?”

“An aide Gloria told me,” said Cindy. “She worked with Tara and met Loretta herself. I have no idea why no one mentioned her, including Owen. That’s a big question, isn’t it?”

“You can say that again,” said Mattheus, slowly absorbing the information. “We’ll have to talk to Owen about this. And we have to talk to Loretta immediately. Where was she when we met the family?”

“They were obviously hiding her,” Cindy exclaimed.

“Or, maybe she just refused to meet us?” Mattheus suggested.

“I doubt that,” said Cindy, “because Gloria also told me that Loretta was the only one in the family who was willing to listen to what Gloria had to say. Gloria told the whole family she had important information and they just brushed her off.”

“What did Gloria have to say?” Mattheus was puzzled.

“I don’t know if she’s crazy,” Cindy continued, “or if she has her finger on something.”

“Could be both,” said Mattheus. “Crazy people can still see things that are right on. What did Gloria talk to Loretta about?”

Cindy didn’t know exactly how to tell Mattheus. She wanted to prepare him for what came next.

“The hospital’s a strange place and naturally, some of the people who work there seem a little far out,” Cindy started easing in gently. “I’m glad you’re not going to just discount Gloria as crazy.”

“Continue,” Mattheus said.

“Everyone has a different opinion about Tara’s death,” Cindy continued. “The head nurse gave me the party line, though she let me know that she herself doesn’t have a problem with euthanasia.”

“It’s her right to believe what she likes,” said Mattheus.

“Yes, of course,” said Cindy. “And a young guy, Skip, who covered the desk told me there’s a group of workers at the hospital who get together and pray for patients who’ve been in a coma for awhile.”

“Really? said Mattheus. “That’s interesting. But what did Gloria tell Loretta? Why are you holding back?”

Cindy felt odd repeating it to Mattheus, but knew he had to hear it.

“Gloria told me that she saw Tara open her eyes several times at night. She also heard Tara speaking.”

Mattheus sat up straighter, “Speaking to who, to Gloria?”

“I know it’s far out,” said Cindy. “I know people imagine all kinds of things watching someone close to death.”

“You’re hesitating, Cindy,” Mattheus was adamant. “What did Gloria hear Tara say?”

“Tara said she wanted to die, to please help her die,” Cindy repeated, suddenly feeling waves of despair wash over her.

“Oh boy,” Mattheus exclaimed. “Is Gloria delusional? She thought she heard Tara ask to die? Did Gloria also think she should honor Tara’s request, or get someone else to do so?”

“It wasn’t like that,” Cindy broke in, defending Gloria.

“What was it like?” Mattheus stood up swiftly. “Could be Gloria is a psycho who got others to follow her lead?”

“No,” Cindy cried out, distressed. “Don’t people ever wake up from comas and speak?”

“Gloria got to you, too,” Mattheus breathed.

“Not at all,” Cindy stood up as well. “I’m just telling you what she said.”

Mattheus started tapping his hands against his thighs, as he usually did when trying to make sense of something difficult that suddenly came his way.

“Whether or not Gloria really heard Tara speak, is not necessarily the main thing,” he finally said. “Did she report this to the police?”

“No,” Cindy commented. “The police didn’t question her.”

“Well, they should have,” Mattheus grunted. “We’ve got motive for the euthanasia right there. For all we know Gloria was involved in it, felt she was honoring Tara’s wishes.”

“Maybe,” said Cindy, “but I don’t get that feeling. Gloria said that Loretta was very interested in what her mother said. She made Gloria repeat it again and again.”

“If that’s true, it speaks to possible motive for Loretta, too,” Mattheus spoke intently. “But we have no idea if any of it is true.”

“It’s all completely circumstantial,” Cindy replied. “It’s all hearsay, nothing more. Could it possibly create enough reasonable doubt to free Owen?”

Mattheus was obviously mulling over that question himself. “You read my mind,” he responded. “How often did Loretta visit her mother in the room?”

“I don’t know that yet,” said Cindy. “When I speak to Tara’s nurse Alana she’ll tell me more.”

“Why haven’t you spoken to her already?” Mattheus seemed surprised.

“She called in sick today,” said Cindy. “The head nurse, Beatrice, said that was unusual for her. Beatrice thought that someone told Alana we were here and she didn’t want to speak to us.”

Mattheus grimaced. “That’s not good,” he muttered. “There has to be a reason why Alana’s avoiding us.”

“I’ll find out when I see her,” said Cindy.

The doorbell rang loudly then and Mattheus got up and went to get their dinner. While he was inside Cindy closed her eyes, wondering where all of this was leading. Had Tara woken up from the coma by herself and spoken, did she really want to die? Then, once again Skip’s words rang in Cindy ears – some patients are healing while they’re in a coma, only taking a long rest. Was that true for Tara? These were troubling questions with no easy answers. They also forced Cindy to wonder about her sister. Was Ann better off now, was she happy? Of course Cindy wanted to believe that Ann would always stay close to her. But how could she know for certain? Skip and Gloria had a faith and certainty that was daunting. Not only did it keep them going, it had to affect all aspects of their lives.

Mattheus returned with dinner on two trays, placing one down in front of Cindy, and one on a table near his lounge chair.

Cindy took hers and began to eat. She was tired and hungry and the delicious fried chicken helped her feel more grounded.

“Tell me about what you discovered today, Mattheus,” Cindy asked. She craved the clarity she felt when Mattheus shared practical information.

Mattheus seemed relieved to be changing the topic as well. “I learned a lot,” he started. “The Ranges hospital is supported and run by private donors.”

That made sense to Cindy. It was why the place felt like an exclusive country club.

“The Board of Directors have all kinds of connections in the community,” Mattheus continued, “they get a pass on certain government regulations that affect state run hospitals.”

“Is that safe medically?” Cindy suddenly felt concerned.

“There’s a definite effort to hire fine doctors and nurses,” Mattheus continued. “In fact, a job here is a plum. The hospital can hire the best staff available as they pay far more than elsewhere. It’s not so easy to work here either. You have to have connections to get in.”

“I don’t like that,” said Cindy.

“It’s the way of the world,” Mattheus replied. “That in and of itself isn’t bothersome to me.”

“What is?” asked Cindy, as she turned and watched Mattheus eat.

“I found a bunch of articles complaining about lack of sufficient oversight of the medical procedures here,” Mattheus continued. “That bothered me.”

“You’re telling me it would be easy for someone on the staff to get rid of a patient?” Cindy shot back.

“That’s putting it harshly,” Mattheus wasn’t quite there. “I think patients do well here, by and large. There’s patient error and malpractice everywhere. The rate here is probably less than any other hospital around.”

“But you don’t know for certain?” Cindy insisted.

“Not for certain, but I have to assume this place is better than most hospitals here which are generally crowded, dirty and sub-standard. Rich donors keep this place going for when they come to vacation and need it. They don’t want to go to the other hospitals.”