Deadly Diversion: A Medical Thriller Read Online Free PDF Page A

reporting something someone else didn’t do?”
    “Not much,” I admitted. “I’ve never heard of it. Probably never,” I said finally.
    “You reported it up the line. You followed orders. Sounds like if anyone’s in trouble with the board it would be your superior.” BJ knew about following orders and chain of command. “Make sure you document what you’ve done.”
    “Good point. My boss gave me back the incident report. I’ll file it along with a note about my meeting with her. Just in case something happens in the future.”
    The waitress returned with our food, and we busied ourselves with preparations. I smeared my pancakes with butter and drizzled syrup over them and added salt and pepper to my eggs, sunny-side up. I stabbed the yolks, twisting my fork around in the gooey centers before popping a dripping bite into my mouth.
    BJ wrapped her hands around the grilled sandwich stuffed with tomato, bacon and cheese. “The family must have been expecting it even if they didn’t admit it.” She bit into the crunchy wheat toast and cheese oozed out over the side and onto her hand. She put her sandwich on the plate and licked her fingers. “They’ll bury him, and that’ll be the end of it,” she said, wiping her hands on a napkin. “Come on, eat those pancakes before they get cold. You can save the world on a full stomach.”
     

FOUR
    Thursday, 09 August, 0640 Hours
    COMING INTO THE HOSPITAL the next morning, I saw Tim hand a flyer to a nurse as she passed him. He turned toward me, his lopsided smile sliding into a neutral expression, his swollen black eye and bruised cheek distorting his face.
    “I know you don’t believe in this,” he began, “but we’ve got to do something to get administration to listen to us.” He smiled crookedly at a passing nurse. She took a flyer and moved on.
    At this early hour the lobby was nearly deserted. Even the volunteers who staff the information desk hadn’t arrived yet. One elderly man dozed in a chair opposite the wall of portraits of past hospital administrators, their cheery faces smiling at who knew what.
    “You see the paper this morning?” He turned to me.
    “CEO salaries?”
    “Can you believe that? They’re making hundreds of thousands,” he said, loud enough to be heard across the lobby. “On the backs of nurses,” he added, watching an administrator walk by without looking at us. “That’s why we’ve got to get some leverage.”
    “Tim, I do believe in unions,” I said after a few more nurses had taken flyers and the lobby was momentarily empty. “My dad was a union member all his life. And my grandfather.”
    His lip curled, twisting his face into a grimace. “But not for nurses, is that it?”
    “Tim, I can’t vote for a union. I’m part of administration. I’m not eligible.”
    “So would you if you could?”
    Two nurses came up and took flyers. They stood there reading.
    Tim was waiting for my answer.
    “I’ll see you upstairs,” I said.
    Tim nodded, his expression grim.
    Bart was standing in the hall in front of ICU when I got off the elevator. His blond curly hair stood up as if he’d been running his hands through it, and his scrubs were stained with splatters of blood and fluids. “Can I see you?” he asked. A smile crinkled around his clear-blue eyes.
    I nodded and opened the door to my office. I motioned to the small chair beside my desk, but he kept standing, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet.
    “I’m sorry about yesterday,” he said, glancing around. His eyes flicked back to me. “I didn’t mean to talk to you that way. It’s just that—” He ran his hand through his hair and shook his head. His words spilled out in a rush. “It’s getting to me, working all night, school all day, I just lost it yesterday. We are just so damn busy.” He stopped and flashed me another quick smile. “Sorry, darn busy. Too many patients, too sick, not enough help...” His voice trailed