Fatal Reaction by Belinda Frisch Read Free Book Online Page B

waiting room where Derrick, Emily’s husband, sat in the corner, reading, or rather staring, at a magazine. He never turned the page. His short, brown hair was flattened on one side from leaning against his hand, and his green eyes, visible through his glasses, were bloodshot. The table next to him was covered in empty coffee cups, and his leg bounced up and down.
    “Mr. Warren?” Dorian called out to him.
    Derrick all but leapt out of his seat. “Is Emily all right? How did everything go?”
    “Why don’t you join me in the hallway?” Dorian smiled to ease Derrick’s nerves. “Emily’s surgery went well. You’ll be able to see her in about an hour or so, as soon as she wakes up.”
    “‘Well,’” Derrick said, wringing his thin hands, “as in, we’ll be able to have a baby?”
    “There are no guarantees. Everything looks great so far, but we have to start Emily on medication to stop her body from rejecting the new uterus. Once she is healed and her body has fully accepted the transplant, we can talk about pregnancy. It’ll be at least three months, but it could take longer.”
    The overhead speaker crackled, and a monotone voice paged him.
    “They keep calling you,” Derrick said, a hint of annoyance in his tone.
    “Excuse me a minute, would you?” Dorian was headed for the wall phone when Noreen burst through the door to the second-floor stairwell, red faced and snarling. Dorian rushed toward her. “What the hell are you doing here?” He steered her away from Derrick, who flashed a concerned look in their direction.
    Noreen pulled her arm free and set her hand on her hip. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for the last half hour, paging you, calling you . . .”
    “The overhead page doesn’t come to the operating room, for one, and my phone is in my locker. I’ve been in surgery all morning. What’s so important?”
    Noreen thrust the folded newspaper against his chest.
    He caught the local news section as it was about to fall. A page-two article told of an investigation into the death of Sydney Dowling, one of his more recent patients. He looked over his shoulder at Derrick Warren, pacing the floor and casting occasional glances in their direction.
    “This doesn’t say anything about us,” Dorian said. “Or about her surgery.”
    “She’s been calling the office nonstop. You don’t think they’re going to wonder what she was so concerned about?”
    “Let them wonder. Have you talked to Mitchell?”
    Noreen shook her head. “Not yet, but I’m sure he’s seen the news. And that’s not the worst of it. Stephanie Martin’s in the emergency room with Jared Monroe.”
    Dorian wiped his hands over his face. “What happened?”
    “She came in by ambulance. I couldn’t get much more information than that. Jared called the office to talk to you, and Kristin transferred him to me. What if it’s organ rejection, Dorian? It’s all the evidence anyone needs, if they’re smart.”
    “But they’re not smart . Only three of us know what happened, and there’s no reason to suspect otherwise. I can’t talk about this right now. Not here.”
    Dorian opened the door to the waiting room and called the attention of the secretary behind the check-in desk whose name he didn’t know. “Hey, excuse me.” He waved, and she looked up from her monitor. “Please take Mr. Warren to the recovery room and have him set up someplace quiet with his wife.”
    Derrick, who Dorian could tell had been listening, knitted his eyebrows together. “I thought I had to wait an hour.”
    “I moved it up.” Dorian waited until the PACU door opened before heading back to Noreen, standing with her arms folded. “Could this day get any worse?”
    “It’s about to. You know who I saw on my way in?”
    Dorian sighed. “No, who?”
    “Marco Prusak.”

CHAPTER 12
    Pamela Lewis sat cramped behind a small desk in the outer waiting area of Mitchell Altman’s office. Her mousy brown hair was wound into a