Five
Kai
Three days. It's been three days since I saw Shaun for dinner, and all those old feelings I had came floating right back to the surface.
What would it be like to have him as a daddy now?
Would he read me bedtime stories and make me nuggies for dinner?
He's a doctor, so he would probably make me eat little green trees, too.
Grownups always want you to eat your veggies.
Shaking the thoughts out of my head to refocus, I click on a folder containing documents that I scanned from Shaun's file.
I've reviewed these a dozen times, but there has to be something I'm missing.
This nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach.
I click on the first document—Heather's initial intake form.
Scanning down the page, it looks like our client, Heather Maddison, visited Dr. Whitmore for an initial consultation after learning she was pregnant. Further reading of Shaun’s notes, it all seems like standard stuff you would do at a doctor's appointment.
Height: 5 ft 3 inches, weight 145 pounds, blood pressure 118/68, O2 99%.
The pregnancy test came back positive, confirming the patient's reason for the visit. The doctor performed an ultrasound indicating that Heather is ten weeks pregnant. The patient was referred to a nutritionist and prescribed vitamins.
Now this is interesting. Dr. Whitmore ordered a set of labs, but the patient refused to have them done at the clinic and wanted her primary doctor's office to run them.
Dr. Whitmore agreed, and the patient filled out a medical release form– lab results only from this date forward.
No other medical records were to be released.
Clinical observation: The patient presented with tremors and continually looked at the door. The patient apologized and stated that she gets nervous in new surroundings. Follow-up appointment scheduled.
Perhaps since she was new to the clinic, she didn't want to disclose all her information right away, in case she decided to switch to another OB/GYN later. That would be my assumption, since she became jittery during the appointment. Unless she was hiding something .
My cell vibrating on the table startles me since I am so far into the abyss in this case. I can see how lawyers get off on this type of thing. It's like being a mini-detective. So many secrets to uncover.
When I glance down at the phone, it's a number I don't recognize, but my instinct tells me to pick it up. A woman's voice, crisp and efficient, identifies herself as Heather Maddison.
How the fuck did she get my cell number?
"Heather, hi. What can I do for you?" I ask hesitantly but firmly.
"I tried calling the office, but Mr. Malloy said you were working from home and that it would be okay if I called you on your cell. He gave me your number." Did he now? That was nice of him.
"I was actually just reading over some notes on your case. How can I help you?"
"Mr. Malloy said we have a meeting on Monday at ten in the morning, and that the case will be over and the settlement will be signed by Dr. Whitmore.
I wanted to hear it from you since you are now the lead.
" She sounded hopeful. "Do you think we'll get the whole settlement amount?
" You mean the one and a half million? No, lady, I do not.
"I can't promise anything, but there will be some new updates for sure by Monday." I try not to reveal my hand, regardless of the type of case I'm working on. You never know when something will come back to bite you on the ass or get leaked.
"That's wonderful. I'll see you on Monday. Thank you for taking over for Roberts. He was nice and all, but he just wasn't getting the job done, and Mr. Malloy said he would reassign the case to someone a little hungrier, if you know what I mean." Wait. What now?
Hide your hand.
Hide your hand.
Hide. Your. Hand.
Don't let her see your cards.
"Well, I'm in charge now." She doesn't know me from the man on the corner begging for change.
"I'm thankful for that."
"See you Monday," I tell her before disconnecting the
call.
Malloy said Roberts was taking a leave of absence for family stuff. This sounds more like Roberts was let go because he wasn't moving along on this case. Or Roberts went down the same rabbit hole I just did. Alice in Wonderland was right. " I just get curiouser and curiouser."
…
"Baby, it's so good to see you," Mom says as she wraps her arms around my waist. "Have you been working out? Look at these muscles," she teases as she pats my chest before stepping back.
"Good to see you too, Mom. Where's Dad?" I ask, looking around the front living room.
"He's just pulling the food off the grill. Hope you're hungry." She tells me.
"Starving. Let me take my bag upstairs and clean up.
I'll be down in a second." I take the stairs two at a time and push open the door to my childhood bedroom, turned guestroom that nobody uses.
I'm grateful for that, as I still have a pile of stuff stored in the closet.
The pale green walls are soothing with crisp white linens on the bed.
It's a stark contrast to the walls that were once lined with my favorite bands and athletes.
Making my way down the stairs, I take a few deep breaths.
It feels good to be home. My shoulders relax, and for a brief moment, I wonder what it would be like to move back.
Open up my own law firm here in town. Take only the cases that would make me happy, not those that are strictly high-profile and highpayout.
"Hey, Dad. Smells fantastic," I tell him instead of a proper greeting. He gives me a bear hug and a solid pat on the back before letting me go.
"Gosh, it's good to see you, son. What's it been…two, maybe three years?" He asks, his fingers stroking his chin as if he's deep in thought.
"Ha! Very funny. Try two to three months. I can't help it. Works keeping me on my toes these days." I tell him, but my face seems to take on a sullen feel.
"Well, let's eat, and you can tell us all about it.
Your mother said you needed to bend our ears on some medical stuff.
You know, if you had gone to medical school, you wouldn't need our help.
" He gives me a sly grin before walking over to the table, where the food is laid out, his shoulders rising and falling with each bout of laughter.
"Not this again," I say in mock irritation.
"So, tell us about this case," Mom encourages while pulling out her chair and taking her seat across from me.
While I pile food onto my plate, I fill them in on the case, leaving out the names, of course.
"So what I wanted to ask is, what are some things that could cause birth defects in babies?
I know the typical drugs and alcohol stuff, but there has to be something I'm missing here when going through these files. "
Dad's brows are pinched as he stares at me without responding.
"What?" I ask, looking around, confused.
"Are you on the side of the plaintiff or defendant?
" Dad asks, and my stomach turns. That's a good question, because from the outside looking in, you might think I was working for Shaun, not Heather.
However, I must do what's right by the law, regardless of who I am defending.
I'm not going to let her ruin Shaun's life if what she is claiming isn't true.
If it is true, then I have no problem giving her the money and seeing that he has his license revoked for a year, giving him some time to think about what he caused. You sure about that?
"Just trying to get all the information so I'm not blindsided. Besides, my boss wants Shaun to sign the settlement on Monday, and I don't feel that's the right decision. Not when my gut instinct is telling me otherwise." I tell them.
"Shaun? You mean, Dr. Whitmore?" Mom asks, eyes going wide.
"Fuck," I whisper, forgetting to protect his privacy as his name slipped effortlessly from my lips.
"Language," Mom reminds me firmly.
"You guys can't say anything. It just slipped out. My job could be on the line if anyone knew I let that slip. Besides, he's not my client. I represent the plaintiff." I tell them quickly as I push food around my plate.
"But," Dad says before taking a sip of his lemonade.
"Shaun and I have history. Personal." Mom raises a brow at this with a lift of her lip. "Not like that. We met when I was taking some classes here. We became friends over the two years I went to the community college before heading out to Berkeley. We…just lost contact for a few years."
"And you want to make sure he isn't getting played in this lawsuit," Dad says. Not a question.
I nod anyway.
"Sounds very complicated to me, but back to your question.
Several factors may contribute to the occurrence of birth defects.
Many of them are related to diet, lack of vitamins, or a long history of medication.
Also, suppose a patient is diabetic and her glucose levels aren't managed.
In that case, the high levels of glucose can cause damage to the fetus.
Do you have any of her lab results? We can tell you what to look for. " Mom says, excited to help.
"No. All of her lab results were obtained at her primary care doctor's office, and she refused to release them.
She would only release records that related to the pregnancy.
Most of her labs never made it to the clinic.
There were notes in the file of phone conversations between her PCP and Dr. Whitmore discussing the pregnancy and test results.
"Well, that doesn't sound right," Dad chimes in.
"Exactly." I take a bite of my steak and groan as the flavor melts on my tongue.
Once the dishes are cleared and the kitchen is clean, I excuse myself to head back upstairs to work for a while. Pulling my laptop out of my bag, I sit on the bed to review some notes with the new information from my parents, focusing solely on the lab results this time.
After clicking on several documents, I strike gold ten minutes later. I think.
"BINGO!"
I grab my laptop and fly down the stairs. "Mom! Dad! Come here…please." I set my computer on the kitchen table, and both of my parents sauntered into the kitchen with me pointing to the screen. "Look."
Goosebumps travel up my arm, hoping I have something of importance.
"These labs were in the case file. The paper copy I scanned indicated one of three pages.
But the other two pages weren't attached.
This one lab is the last line item on page one, and it was probably overlooked by the person sending the labs to Dr. Whitmore's office. "
Glucose level 286
"That is extremely high. Even if the person wasn't fasting, the range shouldn't be higher than one hundred eighty for a diabetic." Mom confirms what I was thinking.
"And if she is diabetic and her diabetes isn't under control, then that could possibly cause birth defects in her baby during the pregnancy." Dad finishes for her.
"This is awesome." I offer them a huge grin and a group hug before closing my laptop. Mom gives me a scowl. "Sorry, not awesome as in something happening to the baby, but…you know…for my case." I offer an apologetic look.
I grab my laptop and bolt back up the stairs, tripping on the last step before hitting the landing. I hear Dad chuckle before he tells me to slow down.
"I'm going out for a bit. Don't wait up."
This is a great start, but I have a long road ahead of me. Especially since there is nothing mentioned in any of the files that Heather is a diabetic. I could be grasping at straws. But only one place to start.
Me: Busy?
Teddy Bear: Never too busy for you.
Me: Meet me at Kate's Dinner in thirty?
Teddy Bear: It's a date.