Heart Failure Read Online Free PDF Page A

whether Janice Evans had passed on his reason for being late, but evidently Hartley didn’t consider his employee’s tardiness worthy of comment.
    Adam was going through the phone message slips on his desk when Evans stopped by. Janice Evans was a decadeyounger than Hartley, and to Adam’s way of thinking, the more level-headed, intelligent, and talented of the two lawyers.
    She wore a tasteful wedding and engagement ring set on the appropriate finger. Tiny pearl earrings were Evans’s only other jewelry. Her perfectly styled ash-blond hair fell short of her shoulders. She wore designer glasses over gray eyes that seemed to see everything. He was no expert on women’s clothes, but Adam was willing to bet that Evans’s pants suit had a well-known label and cost several times more than his off-the-rack suit.
    “Sorry to hear about your car,” she said. “Get things wrapped up?”
    Adam smiled up at her. “Yep. It’s in the shop getting a new windshield and having the headrests redone.”
    “What did the police say?”
    “Not much, actually. My own theory is that it was some high school kids with a gun, deciding to use my car for target practice.” How many more times am I going to have to tell this?
    “Well, be careful.” Evans nodded once and retreated to her office.
    A few minutes later Brittany eased up to Adam’s desk and handed him several file folders.
    “Anything urgent?” Adam asked as she shuffled through the stack.
    “No. Usual stuff. But we missed you. The coffee you make is so much better than what I brew.”
    “Glad you like my touch,” Adam said. “And unless someone shoots out my windshield again, I’ll be in tomorrow to brew it for you.” That is, unless I’m dead .

FOUR
    CARRIE STOOD BEHIND HER DESK AND RAMMED HER ARMS INTO the sleeves of a fresh white coat. Why did the laundry think so much starch was needed for a professional look? Sometimes she thought the deliveryman should just stand her coats in a corner of her office instead of hanging them in her closet.
    Carrie was trying to open the side pocket to admit her stethoscope when her nurse, Lila, stuck her head in the office door.
    “And a very happy Monday to us all.” Lila was a middle-aged divorcee, a bottle blonde, who still acted as if she were in her twenties. Today she looked as though she’d bitten the lime, only to reach for the tequila and find someone had hidden it.
    “Party a bit too much over the weekend?” Carrie asked.
    “Nope, didn’t party enough. I had at least another day’s worth of fun planned, but I turned around and it was time to start another week.” Lila eased into a chair, crossed her legs,and looked up at Carrie, who now struggled to button her white coat. “How about you?”
    There were two ways to get news spread throughout the twelve-doctor, multispecialty clinic where Carrie worked: put a notice on the bulletin board or tell Lila. Carrie chose not to go either route. “Pretty routine.” She checked her pockets, lifted her gaze to Lila, and smiled. “Let’s get on with it.”
    Lila stood and gave a mock cheer. “Once more the Rushton Clinic moves into high gear.”
    The clinic’s official name was Jameson Medical Associates, but everyone called it the Rushton Clinic after Dr. Phil Rushton, the managing partner. He’d put together the group of physicians, helped work out a system for dividing profits and sharing expenses, made the administrative decisions most doctors were happy to avoid, and still found time to be the foremost cardiac surgeon in the region.
    Carrie was one of two internal medicine specialists in the group. Her training was as good or better than that of the other internist, Thad Avery, and their practice sizes were about equal. She had no quarrel with the arrangement except for occasions when Phil Rushton’s actions made her grit her teeth. She was ready to see her first patient when a secretary hurried up. “The Emergency Room called. Mr. Berringer was brought in