Chapter Eleven #2
"It's a security risk for both Spencer and the patient," King explained. "Spencer is not allowed to leave the estate without at least four guards accompanying him. There are too many people out there that would try to use him to get to me."
"It's a pain in the ass to get them gowned up and sterile enough for a surgery room," Spencer added before glaring at King. "And he won't let me go anywhere without them."
King's arm tightened around the colorful man. "For good reason and you know it."
Spencer's eyes rolled again. "Maybe."
There was a story there.
I wasn't going to ask.
"What we're wanting to set up is an on-call doctor team—you and Zaq—to see to our medical needs," Jake started. "We'd set up a small clinic for you where you could treat patients that need more extensive tests, but most of it would be house calls."
"What if someone needed surgery or intensive care?" I asked.
"The clinic would be connected to one of the local hospitals so anything that needed more intensive care could be dealt with there, but you'd still be the doctor on record."
"Our licenses haven't been approved yet," I pointed out. Granted, our state exams were only two weeks away, but we still couldn't practice medicine in the state until we had those nifty little pieces of paper.
"This all hinges on you getting your license in New York," Spencer said. "It also wouldn't hurt to get it for a few of the surrounding states as well."
Might as well, although that meant a whole lot more studying. Medical practice was pretty much the same, but each state had different regulations that needed to be followed.
It could be a real pain sometimes.
"Here's what we propose for you and Zaq.
" Jake handed me a black leather bound folder.
"If you agree, we can get started right away.
I figure it will take a couple of months to get everything set up and we may need your input on some of it.
Your experience as a hospital administrator will come in handy for that. "
I flipped open the folder and started reading over the proposal Jake had prepared. Zaq leaned in close so he could read along with me.
My jaw dropped when I got to the salary listed. I glanced up, staring at Jake. "A million dollars a year? Isn't that a little excessive?"
Jake's eyebrows lifted. "You're arguing about the salary?"
Well, when you put it like that... "No, not exactly, but I only made a hundred and fifty thousand a year in Texas. A million dollars seems like a lot."
"Look, Patty," Jake started. "The people you will be on-call for? Most of them are millionaires, some even billionaires. The amount of money each one of them would contributing to a fund to take care of your salary is like pocket change to them. I doubt they'd even miss it."
On the surface, the deal they were offering us was a dream. A completely decked out clinic, a million dollar salary, and not having to deal with patients all day long or hospital administrators.
"What's the catch?"
There had to be one.
Jake smiled. "The confidentiality agreement is iron clad. If you broke it, you could only wish for jail time."
"You know there would be some things that had to be reported, right?"
Jake nodded. "Anything that has to do with the medical needs of a patient as set by the state guidelines is acceptable. More than that..." Jake shook his head. "Stay away from reporters."
Zaq snorted as he sat back in his seat. "Like I want reporters in my life."
"Reporters aren't always bad," Delancy said, speaking for the first time. "I even have a few on speed dial."
"You're married to a mobster," I pointed out. "Why would you be speaking to reporters?"
Wasn't that bad for business? And his husband's ability to stay out of prison?
Delancy smirked. "Sometimes, you need a reporter to spin a wild tale, even if it's not a complete lie."
Alejandro chuckled. "Delancy is a master at taking the truth and twisting it to say what we want it to say. He doesn't lie, but he's very good at making people see what we want them to see."
When I glanced at Delancy, the man wagged his eyebrows at me.
"Alejandro gets invited to all of the social events of the season because the public sees him as a great philanthropist, strong business owner, and the grandson-in-law of the legendary businessman Delancy Matisse. Very few people actually know what he really does for a living."
After saying that and making me wonder if he was Batman, Delancy sat forward and grew serious. "There is another part of this that I want to discuss with you, a part that comes strictly from me and would be paid on a case-by-case basis."
"I'm listening."
"I belong to an organization that helps battered men and women escape their abusers. Most of them—"
I held up my hand. "Say no more. I'm in. Except for the cost of medicine and tests, I won't charge you anything to treat them."
I'd seen enough battered men and women pass through my hospital to know there was a need out there for caring doctors that wouldn't look the other way or return the victims to their abusers. If I could help Delancy save a few of them, I was all in.
"Before you agree, you need to know that the work I do is for people that can't escape their abusers through normal channels, like say if the abuser is a police officer or something.
My organization helps them escape, get the help they need, get the evidence to take their abusers to trial, and then get them set up somewhere that they can start a new life. "
"There's a trust fund set up for this secret organization, Patty," Jake said.
"We all contribute to it in one manner or another.
Sometimes its money, sometimes its security, and sometimes its medical care.
The important thing is to get these people the help they need and put their abusers behind bars. "
"The other important thing is to keep it a secret," Delancy said. "Think of it as the underground railroad. No one talks about it because word cannot get out. Not everything we do is above board."
I narrowed my eyes. "Give me an example." I wouldn't make a decision or a judgment until I knew more.
"I won't name names, but we had one woman that was being abused by her cop husband. Every time she tried to report it, not only did his buddies tell him, but they sent her back to him so he could beat her up all over again."
I grit my teeth. "Tell me he's behind bars."
"Oh, he is." Delancy grinned. "And so are a few of his cop buddies."
"How?"
"I have a friend that is handy with a computer.
He tapped into the police station video feed and made copies of her interview and the police calling the husband and handing her back over to him.
That, along with her medical records, was enough to put them all way for a few years.
She's living in Nebraska now under a different name. "
"Good."
I was still in.