Chapter 67 So, He’s Sulking
“Charles Harding!”
Harrington looked ready to kill him.
“Yesterday, you swore the treatment would cure him. Then you said the accumulated heat would take a night to clear. What’s your excuse now?”
Harding looked pale and exhausted. Gone was the confident, self-satisfied physician from the night before.
The child was still crying, his voice completely hoarse.
He had slept only when exhaustion finally overwhelmed him. Even then, he had soon jolted awake and started screaming again.
That cycle had repeated throughout the night.
Harding had tried everything he could think of.
Nothing had worked.
“I’ve failed you, Mr. Harrington. I have no excuse.”
Harrington sneered.
“You let him suffer all night on the strength of your promises. Do you think admitting you failed makes that all right?”
Harding grew even paler.
He knew what kind of man Harrington was—a ruthless power broker who wouldn’t blink at taking a life.
I’m finished.
He hadn’t earned the million and a half.
Instead, he’d put his own neck on the line.
Harding gritted his teeth.
“I assume you took him to several hospitals before turning to Dr. Whitmore and me. If neither of us can help, finding someone else won’t be easy. I’ve been thinking it over. Our best chance may be Ryan Carter.”
Harrington snorted.
“I thought he was a fraud. Now you want to hide behind him?”
Harding gave a bitter smile.
“I was overconfident. I dismissed him without thinking. After nothing worked, I had to reconsider. Arthur and I have been at each other’s throats for years, but he’s an honest man. If he says Carter is an exceptional physician, I believe him.”
“So now you believe in curse parasites?” Harrington sneered. “How convenient. An invisible creature nobody can find.”
Harding shook his head.
“I failed. I won’t deny that. But I photographed the boy’s veins last night and took another picture just now. Comparing them, I noticed that his veins really have darkened. It’s subtle, but if you look closely, you can see it.”
Harrington’s eyes widened.
“Show me.”
Harding opened the two photographs.
Harrington narrowed his eyes and studied them carefully. His expression changed.
The veins really were darker.
Exactly as Ryan had predicted.
Does he really have a curse parasite?
Harrington turned to his secretary.
“Brooks. Bring Dr. Whitmore and Dr. Carter back.”
“Got one!”
Ryan lifted his rod, pulling a palm-sized bluegill from the water.
He brought it ashore, removed the hook, and held it up for Henry Morgan to admire.
“Nice little fish. This one would make good soup.”
Henry smiled with pleasure.
“Can’t beat fresh fish.” Henry glanced at him. “Though I’m surprised you’re spending your weekend with an old man instead of Grace.”
Ryan chuckled.
“She’s busy with the pharmaceutical plant acquisition. I’m still new around here. Not many friends or social commitments. A little fishing is a good way to relax.”
“Not many people your age have the patience for this,” Henry said.
Ryan was about to answer when his phone rang.
An unfamiliar number.
“Who’s this?”
“Dr. Carter? Daniel Brooks, Mr. Harrington’s secretary. His grandson’s symptoms have developed exactly as you predicted. Mr. Harrington would like you to examine him again. Where are you? I can pick you up.”
“I’m fishing,” Ryan replied flatly. “I’m busy.”
Brooks froze.
He hadn’t expected such an immediate rejection.
This was an invitation from Lawrence Harrington, the real estate tycoon.
What doctor would turn that down?
Most physicians would boast for years about being asked to treat Harrington’s family.
If Ryan cured the boy, the money would be only the beginning. He would have a favor to call in with a man who could make almost any problem disappear.
Then Brooks thought he understood.
Oh. He’s sulking.
We ignored him last night, and now his pride’s hurt.
Brooks suppressed a sneer. When he spoke again, his confidence had returned.
“Mr. Harrington has offered one and a half million dollars to whoever cures his grandson.”
Pride?
What’s pride worth next to a million and a half?
Who could resist that kind of money?
Ryan laughed softly.
“A million and a half, just like that. He certainly has money to throw around. But I’m fishing right now. I’m busy.”
He ended the call.
Then he switched off his phone.
Henry glanced at him.
“If you have something to take care of, go ahead. You don’t need to keep an old man company.”
Ryan smiled, baited his hook, and cast it into the pond.
“Nothing to worry about. Let’s keep fishing. Maybe we’ll land a bigger one.”
At the other end, Brooks stared at his phone.
He turned me down again?
And hung up on me?
After a moment’s thought, he called back.
This time, he would apologize first. Ryan needed a way to accept without losing face. Give him that, and he would come around.
Who could actually turn down a million and a half?
Brooks himself was envious.
“The person you are trying to reach is unavailable.”
Straight to an automated message. Had Carter turned his phone off?
This was going to be a problem.