Sacred Trust Read online

  “That’s right.”

  “You and Bailey Little are after my job, and you won’t be satisfied until I’m gone.”

  “We want what is best for the hospital.”

  Lukas allowed his temper to carry him for a moment. “That’s an outright lie! Obviously you don’t care who gets hurt as long as you get what you want. You sounded almost happy that Dondi Baker had that MI, because it meant more ammo against me. You don’t even care if the poor woman dies! Bailey Little doesn’t mind getting rid of an excellent hospital administrator, or even ruining the whole hospital along with hundreds of jobs, as long as his drug-seeking son is vindicated. He’ll fake a claim of wrongdoing to COBRA. What happens to Estelle Pinkley, and to the lawsuits and to the hospital if I give him a letter of resignation?” Lukas was shocked by his own words.

  Apparently, so was Jarvis, because he didn’t answer for a moment. “I just want you gone. I have no intention of destroying the hospital.” His voice sounded weaker, yet forced, as if he was struggling to keep up his strength. “Do what you want, Bower. By next Thursday, it won’t matter, anyway.”

  Frankie Verris straightened from his weeding and put his hand over his chest. It didn’t hurt, exactly, just felt like a gentle tug. He took a deep breath and wondered about putting one of those little pills under his tongue, but that stuff was used in explosives, for goodness’ sake. The one time he’d used one the chest pain had gone away, but his head felt as though it might explode for a few moments.

  He ambled over to an old tree trunk and sat down on it. The heart problem didn’t bother him as much as it had at first. He even welcomed this reminder that he wasn’t going to be stuck on this old earth much longer. He’d be seeing his sweet wife, Doris, soon, and since this sudden friendship he’d developed with Jesus Christ, he was eager to see heaven. A little pain was nothing in comparison.

  Shelly would grieve, he knew. He’d talked to her about it—even had to fight her so he could fill out one of those DNR sheets so they wouldn’t restart his heart if it stopped. She’d cried and he had cried. She’d said she didn’t know what the kids would do without him. He loved those kids, and so had Doris. Shelly had been like a daughter to them for years.

  After he and Shelly had finished their cry, he’d done something he never could have done before. He’d told her about his relationship with God. And she had listened. She hadn’t listened to Doris, for some crazy reason, but when he told her what had happened to him, she’d admitted there was something missing in her life, too.

  “Thank You, God,” he whispered. “Thank You for giving me a life with Doris. Thank You for Shelly, who loves me and takes care of me, and thank You for Dr. Bower, who helped point me in the right direction that day in the hospital.”

  His chest had stopped cramping, but he knew it would come again.

  Children’s voices reached him from the side of Shelly’s house. Her two oldest children, Jason and Jamie, came running toward him, trampling good dirt and young sprigs of corn in his garden. He smiled and held his arms out to them.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Monday morning Tedi got up and made her own breakfast before Dad was even awake. He hadn’t said much to her since Mom had brought her home Thursday night, probably because he had a hangover. He’d tried to call Julie a couple of times, but she hadn’t answered. Saturday and Sunday he had worked, and Tedi had called and talked to Mom on the phone three times on Saturday and twice on Sunday. Mom wanted her to call as often as possible, at least every day when Dad wasn’t around, and Mom was going to call the school every day to make sure Tedi was there. She’d promised not to say anything to Dad about the bruises, but she’d made Tedi promise to call her any time Dad drank or even acted angry for any reason.

  Dad’s snores reached Tedi in the upstairs bathroom, where she brushed her teeth. If she got lucky, like she did Friday morning, she might slip out of the house before he woke up. She would pack her own lunch so she wouldn’t have to ask him for lunch money.

  Just as she stepped into the kitchen, the phone rang once. She jumped and nearly dropped her backpack, but the answering machine picked up and there weren’t any more rings. She tiptoed into the den to listen.

  It wasn’t Mom. Some grouchy-voiced man demanded that Dad call back as soon as possible. He didn’t even leave a name. How rude.

  Tedi didn’t wake Dad. She quickly packed a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a banana, stuffed it in her pack and rushed out the door.

  Theodore didn’t awaken until the sounds of morning rush hour traffic—five cars from the neighborhood—echoed against the bedroom window. He checked his alarm clock and found that he hadn’t set it. He stumbled downstairs to see about Tedi and caught sight of a neatly printed note stuck to the fridge with a magnet. Tedi had left early so she could walk to school, just as she had done Friday. He sighed, glancing at the rinsed breakfast cereal bowl and juice glass in the sink. He combed his fingers through his hair and stood at the sink, staring out the window at the old swing set. How long had it been since she’d played on that? Had he lost his little girl?

  She’d been so distant lately, almost as if she were afraid to look at him. Did she think he was a monster?

  What had she told her mother?

  Obviously not much, or Mercy would have been camping on his doorstep with the National Guard, along with Ivy.

  He walked into the den and listened to the recorder. Johnson was mad again.

  Theo sank down into his comfortable office chair and buried his face in his hands. He’d shown six houses this weekend, and not one had sold. He’d called three banks Friday for a loan, and no go. Gordon was losing control and wanted out of the deal. Sure he did. He’d known it was a risk when he bought in, but now he wasn’t as willing to gamble.

  Julie wouldn’t even answer her phone when he’d tried to call on Sunday. Why not? Just last week she’d been ready for marriage. Was she backing out now just because of a little fight?

  Theo thought about the fifth of Jack Daniel’s he’d bought last week. He hadn’t opened it again since that day. He didn’t even know why he’d bought it, really, because he was trying to stay off the stuff when Tedi was home. But it was there. He thought about it often.

  He picked up the phone and speed-dialed Julie’s number.

  No one answered. She’d probably already left for work.

  He paced back into the kitchen and opened the top cupboard above the refrigerator. The bottle was still there in its plain paper bag, just as he had placed it. He wanted a drink. He could almost taste it, feel it warm his throat and coat his stomach.

  But he wasn’t going to drink it. He was not an alcoholic. He could control this. To prove it he closed the cupboard door and went upstairs to shower.

  The cry of a needle-shot child followed Mercy down the hallway as Josie followed her orders in the pediatric exam room. The pain wouldn’t last too long; Josie was the best in the business. She had the skill of a neurosurgeon when it came to giving shots to children. She was a wonderful asset to the practice. The only complaint most parents had with her was that she refused to give candy to children who were good. She handed out crayons or colored pens or even toothbrushes, but never anything she perceived as unhealthy. Mercy supported her.

  A pink message note on Mercy’s desk requested she call Dr. Simeon as soon as possible about the QA committee meeting they’d had last Thursday. She checked her schedule and found, to her surprise, that she had a few minutes. She punched Robert’s number.

  When she reached him, she apologized for missing the meeting.

  “No need to feel bad,” he said. “In a way, I’m glad you weren’t there, but at the time I really wished you were.”

  “Why? What happened? Is Jarvis throwing his weight around again?”

  Robert didn’t answer for a moment. The child in the other room had stopped crying, and Josie’s soothing voice echoed down the hall.

  “The QA committee voted four to one to recommend Dr. Bower�
�s termination to the hospital board at its next meeting this Thursday,” Robert said abruptly.

  Mercy caught her breath. “What?” She nearly shouted the word. “That’s crazy! Why?”

  “You already guessed it. Jarvis George.”

  “Don’t tell me he used that ancient story about Dr. Bower’s dismissal at Cunningham.”

  Robert was quiet for a moment. “Yes.”

  “He took them to court and cleared his name of all charges, even the paternity question. He’s a good doctor, Robert, and a caring person. Kansas City was all politics.” She frowned. “You said the vote was four to one. Were you the one?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why didn’t you stop it? You’re the chairman.”

  “How was I supposed to do that, shoot everybody? They outvoted me, Mercy. Jarvis has clout and I couldn’t stop them. And there’s more than just the Kansas City fiasco. It seems there have been some patient complaints about Dr. Bower. One incident took place Thursday morning, when he allegedly missed an MI. We were given no particulars. Dr. George just expected us to take his word for it. I, for one, have not had a single complaint by any of my patients, and I won’t take Jarvis’s word for anything.”

  “More politics.” Mercy leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. “I think Jarvis is losing his mind. I’ve never seen him behave so perversely.”

  “He’s always been perverse.”

  “I’m thinking mental dysfunction, Robert.”

  “You’d do everyone a big favor if you’d prove it and get him out of this hospital. Unfortunately, there’s more, and you’re really not going to like this.”

  Mercy opened her eyes and sat forward.

  “Your mother,” Robert said.

  Mercy stiffened instinctively. “Mom? You’ve heard from her? Has she had another—”

  “She faxed a letter here last Thursday.”

  Mercy sat back with relief.

  “It concerns Richmond funds,” he said.

  “Oh, no.”

  “She’s threatening to withhold a considerable amount of financial support from Knolls Community Hospital if Dr. Lukas Bower isn’t completely investigated, then terminated if the results warrant it.”

  “She’s blackmailing the hospital?” Had she lost her mind? Why hadn’t she mentioned this over the phone? Probably because she wanted to live.

  “I wouldn’t put it quite so harshly. She means well.”

  “Then she’d better butt out of things she knows nothing about,” Mercy snapped.

  “I think that’s your department. Can you talk to her?”

  “I most certainly will. She’s flying in today.”

  “Perhaps you should cool off a little before you speak with her.”

  “Thank you for the vote of confidence. What about the Dwayne Little fiasco?”

  “Still going strong. I would be surprised if Jarvis and Bailey weren’t working together.”

  “Me, too. Wish me luck.”

  “You’ll need it,” Robert said. “Remember who won the last argument you had with your mother.”

  “She lost in the end, Robert. They had to carry her off the trail and rush her to the hospital. It was her heart.”

  “How bad?”

  “As I said, she’s flying home today. It wasn’t an MI.”

  “She should never have gone.”

  “And she should never have written that letter.”

  Monday’s noon rush started early and ended early. By the time Lukas felt hunger pains, he was free to eat, much to his surprise. He left instructions for the secretary to page him if he was needed and hurried toward the cafeteria. This past weekend had been great. He’d had a long walk and a long heart-to-heart talk with Dad. They’d prayed together, read Scriptures together, and then prayed some more. By the time Lukas drove back yesterday, he was at peace again. He knew himself and his own willful heart well enough to know this probably wouldn’t last for long, but he also knew that even when he wasn’t faithful, God was. The decision he’d made this weekend reflected the trust he knew he could place in Christ.

  “There you are,” came a familiar female voice from behind him.

  He turned to find Mercy rushing to catch up with him, and he felt the warmth of a welcoming smile on his face.

  She held out a large, flat box. “Want some healthy lowfat pizza?”

  He eyed the box skeptically. “Healthy?”

  “It even tastes good.” She pushed a door open beside them in the corridor. “Come on, we need to talk.”

  They entered a minuscule conference room with a small refrigerator. Mercy took two cans of Diet Sprite out of the fridge and opened them. She set them down on the table. “Say your prayers. You’re going to need them.”

  Lukas pulled a chair out and sat down when Mercy did. “You’ve heard the rumors.”

  She held his gaze for a moment. “Tell me which rumors, and I’ll tell you if I’ve heard them.”

  Lukas bowed his head and said a quick, silent prayer. He’d prayed a lot this weekend, and he felt as much at peace as he could humanly feel.

  When he raised his head, Mercy opened the box and took out two paper plates and plastic forks. “Dig in. This is guaranteed not to give you heartburn.”

  The melted cheese looked real. “How can this be low fat?” he asked.

  “Fat-free cheese mixed with reduced fat. The rest is veggies and superthin crust. They put lots of garlic on it, so your patients and staff will avoid you this afternoon.”

  “I love garlic.”

  “Then enjoy.” She picked up a slice. “Quit stalling. What have you heard?” She bit into the slice without benefit of plate or fork.

  He picked up his own slice. “I’m going to be sued, possibly by two different patients, and if I don’t quit the hospital, I could be fired.”

  Mercy stopped chewing, and her gaze shot to his face. She swallowed. “Hefty rumors. Who told you?”

  “Dr. George.” He took a bite of the pizza. It reeked of garlic and onion and herbs and yeast. It was wonderful. But it could definitely cause heartburn.

  “Since when did you start listening to Jarvis?” Mercy asked.

  “Since he threatened to dump Mrs. Pinkley for protecting me.”

  Mercy put down her slice. “When did he tell you that?”

  “Thursday.” He took another bite. “This is really good. Where’d you get it?”

  “That jerk! Did he tell you about my mother’s letter?”

  “He told me the works, I suppose. Mmm…low fat, too. I can’t believe it.”

  Mercy glared at him. “So what are you going to do?”

  “Quit.” He took another bite.

  She shot forward in her chair. “No!”

  He kept chewing.

  “Lukas, I don’t believe this! You’ve fought this kind of thing before. You’ve got to do it again.”

  He swallowed, took a deep breath and returned her gaze. “I can’t in good conscience jeopardize other jobs to save my own.” He was touched by her expression of outrage on his behalf. “I’ve done nothing but pray about it and think about it and talk about it with my family all weekend. It was not an easy decision, but I am offering the resignation to Mrs. Pinkley. What she decides to do with it is up to her. This at least gives her some leverage if she needs it.”

  “Let me have a talk with Mom.”

  “Eat your pizza.”

  “Lukas, at least allow me that. My mother is not a vindictive woman, and she’s usually not stupid, just mistaken. She’ll see reason when she understands the whole thing. Right now she just doesn’t know.”

  He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Mercy. Your mother’s letter isn’t the only ammunition that’s being used against me.”

  “I know about the missed MI, but Jarvis isn’t sharing all the facts on that. If Mom’s fighting for you instead of against you, people will listen.”

  “Because she has money?” he asked.

  Mercy winced. “I know how that sounds, but
yes. She helps support this place. The least she can do is try to reverse some of the damage she’s done. You’ve at least got to let me try. Promise me you won’t make a move today until I contact you.”

  Lukas hesitated. Her passion touched him. He put his food down and leaned forward. “Mercy, would you want me to stay and fight if it was going to cost you your job?”

  “Right is right no matter what the cost.”

  He smiled as he reached out and touched her hand. “I appreciate what you’re saying, and I believe you feel that way, but this isn’t about my rights anymore. It’s about doing the right thing after counting the cost to others.”

  “Estelle Pinkley won’t be fired. She’s too good to let that happen.”

  Lukas took a deep breath. “I’m presenting the resignation. In my court battle in KC against my former employers, three people spoke up in my defense. Before the trial was over, those people had lost their jobs. I won my case, but at what cost?”

  “At least wait a day. One day, Lukas. Give me a chance to talk to Mom. Please.”

  He picked up his pizza and took another bite, chewed, swallowed, while she waited. “I wasn’t going to make a move until tomorrow, anyway,” he said at last.

  Her brown eyes came alive when she smiled.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Tedi walked home from school with a backpack of books slung across her shoulders. It was almost summer, and she was so sick of being in school. Mrs. Watkins didn’t seem too happy about her being there, either. Why hadn’t she tried harder these past few months? The homework would take her hours, if she did it at all, and if she didn’t do it, Mrs. Watkins would probably call Dad in for another conference. He would call her an old cow again, and Mrs. Watkins would just get grumpier. Tedi really hated that. There were a lot of things she hated about him lately. Not everything.

  He had always rebelled against his teachers when he was in school. He’d told her so one night when he’d been drinking just a little. His parents hadn’t helped him with homework, either. They’d gotten a divorce when Dad was Tedi’s age. His dad, Tedi’s grandfather, had died before Dad graduated from high school.