CHAPTER THIRTY

At the knock on his office door, Jack took the phone away from his ear. He’d been listening to the same generic new age piano loop for the past ten minutes, waiting for someone who was supposed to be locating Damien Falconi.

“It’s open,” he called out.

Tré appeared. “They’re here, chief.”

A frosty-eyed Jan Cummings marched through the doorway, followed by Bentley. Jan’s assistant had called to set up this meeting fifteen minutes ago. They hadn’t wasted time getting here. Neither met his eyes.

“Finish your call,” she said. “We can wait outside, if you’d like.”

“No need.” He set the phone down. “I was on hold.”

As they gathered at Jack’s conference table, Bentley said, “If by any chance you were calling Mr. Falconi, be advised that we’ve signed a letter of intent with HWA this morning. The ink is dry.”

Jack inhaled sharply. He’d been expecting this, but it still packed a gut punch.

Bentley continued. “I didn’t see you at Judy Marsh’s memorial service yesterday evening.”

“Couldn’t make it. We had a crisis at home.”

“I would say you did,” said Jan. “It’s the talk of the town. Please reassure me that your niece is all right. She seemed like such a fine kid.”

“It was a major ordeal, but she’s safe and sound.”

“What exactly happened?” Jan inquired. “The news story was light on details.”

Jack spent several minutes describing last night’s events. Though he spoke quickly and evenly, looking down at the top of his desk and revolving a pen in his hand, inside he was reliving it all again. When he finished, he looked up at them, both Jan and Bentley were staring at him in silence.

After a moment, Jan shook her head and spoke. “Good God. So this Marianna woman was trying to get drugs out of your car and Kaitlyn was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“That’s what it looks like. All we have are questions right now.”

Bentley cleared his throat. “The major issue to my mind is why a foreign journalist was invited into the inner circle of this university without having been properly vetted. PR says they weren’t given so much as a courtesy call, which is standard procedure. You are not aware of that?”

Jack felt heat rush into his face. “I’m not going to make excuses. I made the wrong decision. She had a letter from Jason Everts and she was on his schedule, but I didn’t check it out thoroughly.”

“True,” said the provost. “Had Jason vetted her?”

“I don’t know.”

“You definitely should have gone through channels, Jack,” Jan said. “But I must admit, I did not sense anything strange about her.” She sighed. “So much for my powers of intuition. And, as a matter of fact, Martin, you didn’t look too suspicious when you were with her, either.”

“This is why we have protocols,” Bentley retorted. “At any rate, isn’t it reckless to keep medications in your car, Forester? Is it even legal?”

“I’m still an emergency physician, remember?”

“But how much do you practice?”

Jan held up her hand. “Enough, Martin. We didn’t come here to put Jack on trial. What’s done is done.” She heaved another sigh. “But that said, Jack, I won’t beat around the bush.” Her eyes shifted to the window. “After the signing with HWA this morning, we had an emergency board meeting.”

Jack felt his throat tightening.

Jan went on. “Owing to your approval of a flawed study protocol in the step-down unit that may have resulted in the suicide of a patient—and your failure to vet that journalist—the board questions your ability to continue leading this medical center. I’ve been asked to request your resignation.” She leaned back, folding her arms.

He stared at the tabletop. Its surface glowed with reflected light, making it look as if you could throw a stone and watch ripples radiate.

“This was a difficult decision,” she said.

“You’ve had a good run up to now,” Bentley said. “But there’s too much water over the dam. Or under the bridge. The optics of you remaining are too negative. Thankfully, things are going to start running more smoothly. Immediately.”

Jack glared up. “How do you mean?”

Bentley shot a look at Jan Cummings. “How much can I divulge about the IT situation?”

“I see no harm in sharing it.”

“Sharing what?” Jack demanded.

“The analysis of the possible causes of our financial meltdown is complete,” the provost said. “Our firewall wasn’t breached, but the experts couldn’t rule out the potential of some tampering with the software. HWA is going to be proactive and install a brand new, state-of-the-art, intrusion-hardened electronic information system, and all the hardware will be upgraded. For both the med center and the main campus. New accounting software too. It’s a ninety-million-dollar investment that Mr. Haines is triggering today. I’d say this bodes well for the acquisition.”

“Our whole IT department is in need of reorganization,” Jan said. “They discovered that scores of individuals no longer with the university—some who have been gone for as long as ten years—still had full network access.”

Bentley sniffed. “One of them, Forester, you’ll be interested to know, was your old acquaintance, the psychopath Dr. Bryson Witner. He was still logging in occasionally over the past six years from wherever they’ve got him locked up now. I imagine that sends a chill up your spine the way it does mine.”

It did. Could the news get any more dismal? He gazed out the window where the edge of the eastern clinical tower looked like a razor slicing the gray sky.

“Martin tells me that you were responsible for bringing that murderer to justice,” said Jan.

“My wife and I just followed up on some suspicions.”

“And I understand he almost killed you both.”

“He came close, yes.”

“It’s a shame you didn’t have suspicions about the Ukrainian journalist,” chirped Bentley.

It was a gratuitous jab. Jack looked at Jan, half expecting her to rein in the arrogant bastard. But she didn’t. It was as if he’d never seen her before, had never noticed how angular her face was, how deep the shadows beneath her cheekbones were.

“What now?” asked Jack. “Do I get escorted out to the parking lot?”

“Of course not,” she said. “You can thank me for that. For the sake of the institution, I’m asking—and hoping—that you stay for the rest of the week.”

“But if you want to leave sooner than Friday, we’d understand,” said Bentley. “We could live with it either way.”

I bet you could. He glanced at the table again and considered the situation. Looking up, he said, “I’ll stay till Friday.”

Jan nodded. “Good. I’m sure that’s not easy. Thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for,” Jack replied, stiffly. “I’d like to be the one to tell the staff about the acquisition by Health Wealth Associates.”

Bentley straightened and looked at Jan. “I’m not sure that’s wise.”

Jack felt a flare of fury. “Only a real son of a bitch would suggest I might poison the well,” he said, trying to control his tone. “These are my colleagues and friends, and I love this place. My only goal would be to reassure them.”

Face darkening, Bentley visibly swallowed.

“This is my call, Martin,” Jan said. “I think his request is reasonable. Let me think about it, Jack. I’ll let you know later today. Fair enough?”

“Thank you,” he said.

“And I am sincerely glad your niece is okay,” she added, rising to her feet. “Pass on good wishes from me. I’m sorry things played out this way.”