Sacred Trust

“For instance, what is his background? Where did he come from? I know he’s a Doctor of Osteopathy. Is he an experienced emergency room physician? How does he feel about abortion and euthanasia?” She shook her head apologetically at Jarvis. “I’m sorry, but these are questions I really want answered.”

Jarvis frowned. Okay, maybe he was going to have more trouble with objectivity than he thought. It was too tempting to play on Ivy’s suspicions, but it wouldn’t be fair to Ivy. He didn’t care about Bower.

“I don’t know much about him,” Jarvis said. “His credentials are obviously in order, or our administrator would not have cleared him to treat patients here. She’s conscientious. I’ve heard that Bower comes from Truman Medical Center in Kansas City, so he’s obviously had some good experience.”

“Is he board certified?”

“I don’t think so. Most docs will include that with their title, and he hasn’t. He would at least have done his internship before he could practice medicine in Missouri, so I’m sure he has a permanent licensure.”

“Did he bring any references from Truman?”

“I’m sure he did, but no one has seen fit to share them with me. Remember, I’m just the director.” Jarvis didn’t try to keep the resentment from his voice. It had even been suggested by the hospital’s chief financial officer that this new upstart should receive the director title since he was going to be the only full-time physician on staff for emergency room. Even the gung ho administrator had refused to consider that—for now. She’d suggested that they try this guy out first and see how capable he was. These people had no loyalty to their tried-and-true medical staff.

“Jarvis, did you hear me? Do you know anyone at Truman? I would think after all these years and all the medical seminars you’ve attended—”

Jarvis straightened. “Of course. One of the advanced trauma life-support instructors is a trauma surgeon at Truman. I’ve taken the course with him several times, not that I couldn’t teach it myself if I were so inclined.”

“Would he have worked with Dr. Bower?”

Jarvis got up from the couch and went to his desk. He fanned out a business card file. “Dr. Sal Probstfield just happens to be a duck hunter. Ducks aren’t my forte, of course, but you get a couple of hunters into a room with 150 golfers, racquetballers and tennis jocks, the hunters will tend to find each other. Ah, here it is.” He pulled out a card with a mallard printed on it.

“Don’t tell me that a trauma surgeon hands out business cards.”

“For his guide service. During duck season he takes groups out on hunting trips. It’s what he plans to do with his time when he retires in three years.”

“Sounds like you know him pretty well.”

Jarvis reached toward the speakerphone and punched his numbers. “Well enough to get information from him about Bower.”

They reached Dr. Probstfield at home. After a few preliminaries, Jarvis asked, “Sal, we have a new full-time doctor down here. Does the name Lukas Bower mean anything to you?”

There was a pause, then a low whistle. “So you’re the guys who stole our whiz kid.”

Ivy raised a brow at Jarvis. She mouthed the words, “Whiz kid?”

Sal continued. “He’s awful at hospital politics, so his colleagues tend to resent him. He’s great with patients and diagnoses and he puts on a good show of confidence, so his colleagues tend to resent him.” He chuckled at his own attempt at humor. “Give him time. He’s not obnoxious. He’s just got a small problem with social graces. He’s not as cocky or self-confident as he seems.”

Jarvis saw the relief in Ivy’s expression.

Sal’s voice came again. “Those guys over at Cunningham Memorial lost themselves a good internist when they kicked him out of the residency program.”

Ivy’s head jerked up.

Jarvis stiffened, trying to control the surge of hope he felt. “What?”

“You know he’s not board certified, don’t you? That’s why. The hospital’s board of internal medicine decided he was endangering patients, and they fired him. He never got into another residency program. I know the trainer Bower had over there. Vicious man, very vindictive. He didn’t like being shown up, and I’d hazard a guess that Bower did so without even realizing it. The director of internal medicine backed up Bower’s trainer. They even tried to block Bower’s permanent licensure. I hear he had to take them to court to get it through.”

“I see,” Jarvis muttered, glancing at Ivy. “Is that all you know about it, Sal?”

There was a pause. “I’ve heard other rumors, but nothing was substantiated.”

“How did they feel he was endangering patients?”

“You’ll have to get that information from somebody else. Remember, I liked the guy. All you have to do is ask Bower about it. He’s an innocent, and he’s never learned to keep his mouth shut.”

“Thanks, Sal, I owe you. See you soon.” Jarvis hung up and looked at Ivy. “I know some people at Cunningham. I’ll give them a call later and see if I can come up with more info.”

“Why don’t you just ask Dr. Bower?” Ivy suggested.

Jarvis shot her a skeptical glance. “I’ll call Cunningham.”

Chapter Five

L ukas didn’t often visit a patient after admitting, because he didn’t want to interfere with the family docs. Friday morning, however, he’d received a special request from ICU that he could not refuse.

Mr. Franklin Verris had apparently just awakened from his mysterious deep sleep late yesterday evening, and he wanted to meet the doctor who, according to Dr. Robert Simeon, had probably saved his life. Dr. Simeon must be mistaken, and Lukas intended to tell Mr. Verris that.

Mr. Verris looked different in a hospital gown, but someone had been kind enough to bring him his teeth and help him comb his full head of white hair. His skin appeared pink and healthy this morning. Shelly had probably been by to see him already.

“Mr. Verris?” Lukas said quietly as he stepped up to the bed. “I’m Dr. Bower. I saw you in the emergency room Wednesday.”

The man glanced at Lukas, nodded and reached up to take Lukas’s hand in a firm shake. “Call me Frankie. My doctor tells me you kept me from doing something terrible. I thank you.” He looked away. “I don’t…don’t know what got into me.”

Lukas bent closer. “Frankie, did you take too much medication?”

There was a slight pause, then the man nodded, still not looking at Lukas.

“But your prescription bottle was almost full.”

Frankie sighed. “I know. Tuesday evening I was going through the medicine cabinet for the first time since…since my wife died. I came across her bottle of Xanax. She used it sometimes to help her sleep when her arthritis acted up.”

“So you did take hers.” Lukas had noticed that the script was for sixty pills.

“She’d used about half the bottle before she died.” Frankie closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them and looked at Lukas. His eyes were pale gray. It made him seem more vulnerable. “Tuesday was the sixtieth anniversary of our first date. When I saw that bottle, it occurred to me that I enjoyed life with Doris so much more than I enjoy life now, I just wanted to be with her again. I didn’t want to live.” He shrugged. “No reason to. No children or family.”

“I’m sorry you felt that way. You do seem to have some neighbors who care about you a great deal.” Lukas could have kicked himself for not trusting his own instincts. “How do you feel now?”

Frankie considered the question for a moment. “I’ve been thinking about Doris a lot today. When I allow myself to believe, as she insisted, that her spirit still lives, I feel better.” A gentle smile lit his face.

That was it. Lukas realized that the lines of this man’s face held humor. That was another reason why Lukas couldn’t believe he had tried to kill himself when he came into the emergency room the other day.

“Was Mrs. Verris a Christian?” Lukas asked.

“Yes. Oh, I know a lot of people claim to be Christians, then live like the devil, but my wife…my sweet, giving wife…” The man’s eyes filled with tears. “She lived it.” He looked out the window for a moment and waited for his eyes to clear. “How she put up with an old reprobate like me for so long, I don’t know. When the drug started taking effect the other day, it occurred to me that I probably wouldn’t follow her anyway.”

“Why is that?”

“God would kick me out of heaven.”