the extra pounds she’d put on since she’d moved back in with her dad. The chunky jasper beads she wore around her neck carried shades of green and brown that coordinated well with her tan silk shell. Neil Kane was studying her necklace, studying her face, studying her. Because she was being confrontational? Or because…
A man hadn’t looked at her as an attractive woman in over two years. She wasn’t feeling attractive these days—not with the extra fifteen pounds, not with her mass of curls needing a trim, not with the circles under her eyes showing her fatigue.
Kane’s voice lost its sharpness as he asked, “What are the right questions?”
Was he serious? Did he really want to know? “The right questions are the ones that matter. Do the professionals who work here care about the patients? Do they punch in and punch out, or do they work when they’re needed? If they aren’t making salaries commensurate with pay at a larger hospital, why do they stay? Those are the questions that would be a start.”
“Tell me what you do in a day.”
In spite of herself, Isobel noticed the stubble shadowing Kane’s jaw. She saw the tiny scar over his right brow. She wondered if there was someone in his life who could ease the creases around his eyes into laugh lines. Amongst all the other rumors about him, she’d heard he’d once been a homicide detective with the Boston P. D. Was that why he seemed so… so…unyielding?
Leaning back a few inches, she took a calming breath. “I check on patients I’m following to see how they fared overnight. My supervisor hands me the files on new admissions that I can help. I’m always writing progress notes. I meet with families, confer with therapists and find placements in rehab facilities and nursing homes.”
“Do you find yourself giving more time to some patients than others?”
He’d asked the question mildly as if it were just another in a long list. But for some reason, it put her on alert. “Some cases are more complicated.”
“What do you do when there isn’t family to consult?”
“I try to do what’s best for the patient, of course.”
“Of course.”
The way he said it made her hackles rise, and her temper flipped to the ruffled side. “Are you accusing me of something?”
“Did it sound as if I was?”
“Talk about evasive,” she murmured.
“I’m asking the questions, Miss Suarez. This isn’t give and take. It’s an investigation.”
“A preliminary investigation. Doesn’t that mean your office isn’t even sure if there’s anything to investigate?”
“You know the saying, where there’s smoke…” He trailed off, letting her fill in the rest.
“There’s another old saying—when a man looks for dirt, he’ll miss the gold.”
“Where did that come from?” He seemed mildly amused.
Isobel frowned. She felt as if he were laughing at her. The quote came from her dad. At sixty-eight, he spouted as much wisdom as he did complaints these days. “Do you have any more questions for me?” she asked curtly.
“Yes, I do. Tell me about Doctor Ella Wilder and J.D. Sumner.”
Isobel considered how best to answer him then finally decided on “They’re engaged to be married.”
“How did they meet?”
“Is that another question you already know the answer to?”
“Humor me.”
Everyone knew how Ella and J.D. had met. “Mr. Sumner had an accident. He slipped on the ice.”
“Here at the hospital?”
“Yes, in the parking lot.”
“And Dr. Wilder treated him.”
“Yes.”
“Do you know any more about it than that?”
Now Isobel was really puzzled. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Did you know the nature of Mr. Sumner’s injury?”
“I believe he had torn cartilage in his knee.”
“Isn’t arthroscopic surgery for torn cartilage usually done on an outpatient basis?”
Now she saw where this was going. “Mr. Sumner’s case was a little different.”
“Why is that?”
“In February he was a representative from Northeastern HealthCare.”
“So he received extra special treatment?”
“All of our patients receive the same treatment, but J.D. was a stranger in town. He didn’t know anyone, and he didn’t have anybody to help him.”
Kane leaned forward, his gaze piercing. “You were called in on the case?”
“No. There was no need for that.”
“Because Dr. Wilder took a personal interest in him?” Kane asked mildly.
His tone didn’t fool her for a minute. “What do you want to know?”
After a thoughtful pause, the investigator was blunt. “I want to know if he was charged for special treatment. He was kept longer than necessary.”
Her defensive guard slipped into place once more. “I understand since you’re from the Massachusetts Attorney General’s Office that you have access to medical records as well as financial records. If that’s true, you can verify why Mr. Sumner was kept.”
“The medical records say he had a fever.”
She shrugged. “And what does Mr. Sumner say?”
“He said he had a fever.”
“Then why wouldn’t you believe that?”
When Neil Kane wouldn’t answer her question, she suspected why. Someone was feeding his office information—false information. There was a leak in the hospital and she guessed that someone in the administrative ranks was doing the damage. Someone had their own agenda to make the hospital look bad so Northeastern HealthCare could take over more easily.
Neil Kane seemed very close, though he hadn’t moved and neither had she. “Patient records aside, can you tell me if Dr. Wilder transported Mr. Sumner at any time?”
“Why is that important?” she fenced, leaning back, putting more distance between them.
“I’m trying to understand what’s fact and what’s fiction, what are legitimate charges and what aren’t.”
