Thorn and Clayton looked at him, puzzled.
“We didn’t plan on this ‘glitch,’ but all the same that is what a beta test is for, to identify and resolve this kind of unexpected phenomenon. It’s a lot better than finding out about it after we go national. In a way, this situation in and of itself is a mini beta test.”
“I wish I could feel as optimistic as you,” Thorn said. “I don’t like threats that could possibly derail our program.”
“Well, I like looking on the bright side,” Langley said. “We might learn some really important lessons from this radiology resident, depending on how his involvement unfolds. And with Clayton keeping tabs on him, we can intervene if need be, which lowers the risk to an acceptable level. I think this situation is a blessing in disguise. It has created a nice controlled environment to get some potentially helpful data about security for iDoc in the future.”
27
George had been moping since he’d gotten home. Compared to Kasey’s, Sal’s, Tarkington’s, Wong’s, and now Laney’s, George’s life was a walk in the park, since he was still alive. But he was unable to shake a sense of complicity in all their deaths. Talking with Kelley earlier made him feel better by getting it out in the open, but not for long.
He was sitting on his couch in the dark, mindlessly TV channel surfing, when his doorbell rang. He ignored it, hoping whoever it was would go away. But it rang again. Then again. Reluctantly George got up and opened the door, thinking it could only be either Zee or his drunk-ass building superintendent. It was neither. He stood dumbstruck staring at Debbie Waters.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” she said. “If you’re entertaining, though, I can come back another time.”
George found his voice. “No! No! Let me get a light.”
Debbie came in and looked for a place to sit as George turned on a floor lamp and turned off the TV. She had to make a conscious effort not to comment on the state of George’s apartment.
“I was driving by and thought of you,” she said, deciding the best place to sit was in a vinyl club chair. She wanted to avoid the couch so as not to give mixed signals. “I hope you don’t mind my stopping by, but I needed to talk with someone. I’m still weirded out about the Chesney girl dying during my watch.”
“I can understand,” George said. “Her death bothered everyone. She was a sweet girl who hadn’t had a lot of chances in life. Before you came I was just sitting in here in the dark, trying to make sense of her passing.”
“How exactly does it bother you?” Debbie asked. She wanted to get this mission for Clayton over with as fast as possible. “It certainly wasn’t your fault.”
George started to reply, then paused. It was a bit of an odd question, since the answer was so intuitive. “I don’t think it was anyone’s fault, Debbie, if that’s what you’re worried about. I think it was more of a confluence of errors and oversights. What bothers me is the fact that she was dealt such a bad hand throughout her short life. I don’t know if you are aware of the details, but suffice it to say she had multiple major health issues, some of which I helped to define. Add in her train wreck of a childhood, and it’s just tragic, at all levels.”
“That’s it?” Debbie asked.
George regarded her closely. He suddenly had the sense that she was interrogating him rather than having a real discussion. He was glad he hadn’t shared his thoughts about his own sense of responsibility. He sensed he should hold his cards close to his chest. His subconscious picked up something a bit off about Debbie. And until he could identify what that something was, he’d play it safe.
“So you’re okay?” Debbie asked, studying his face. “I thought maybe this episode on top of DeAngelis and then of course your fiancée… I don’t know… I was worried about you.”
“How do you know about my fiancée?” George asked.
“Clayton filled me in,” Debbie said without blinking an eye. “That’s why I’m worried about you.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.” And he did. Other than Kasey, he hadn’t had a woman in Los Angeles express much concern about his well-being. As a consequence, his guard dropped a little. Maybe he had misjudged her.
“You look troubled,” she said. “What are you thinking about?”
“Well, I did — do — have this crazy idea about death stalking me. I know that sounds paranoid. I mean, these patients all had serious illnesses, particularly considering what you told me about Sal.”
“Pardon?” She looked confused.
“The prostate cancer.”
“Oh. I forgot I had mentioned it.”
“How did you know?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Really?” George asked, his guard back up.
“Oh, I remember now. His accident was so freaky. When the crash happened, his phone rocketed out of the car and literally landed in my lap.”
George felt a twinge of guilt for having essentially swiped the phone from her desk. Of course he thought it was going to be thrown in the trash.
“Even though it looked worse for wear, I hooked it up to one of the handhelds that Amalgamated gave us for their iDoc clients. It can retrieve their medical histories and recent vital signs data to help us make an initial diagnosis. His phone was jammed from the impact of the accident, but I was able to get some of the latest data downloaded into the reader before it completely crashed. And that included the results of a recent prostate biopsy. It was the last entry in his medical history.”
“That’s fascinating,” George said with obvious interest. “Do you think he knew? Is that information still in the hospital computer?”
“It never got that far,” Debbie said. “And he probably didn’t know about the diagnosis.” George’s sudden eagerness scared her a little. She was certain that getting him riled up was not what Clayton had in mind. He just asked her to gauge George’s state of mind about the deaths, hoping he had put them behind him, and here she was aggravating the situation. “It was obvious pretty quickly that the guy was dead, so there was no need for further medical history. I just read it off the handheld. I never uploaded it.”
“Interesting,” George commented as all the disparate facts swirled around in his brain. If Sal didn’t know about the prostate diagnosis, then there was an interesting parallel with Kasey. Suddenly he blurted out: “I wonder if Greg Tarkington and Claire Wong were iDoc users? If they were, that would be an odd coincidence.”
“Who are Greg Tarkington and Claire Wong?” Debbie’s warning bell was dinging. Clayton was not going to be happy.
“They are two patients I did MRIs on who have also recently shown up as DOAs in your ER.” George moved to the edge of the couch. “I have a favor to ask. Would you see if you can find out if they were part of the iDoc beta test?”
Debbie was about to beg off, but George didn’t give her a chance. “Sorry,” he said. “I’m just thinking out loud, but there is something else.” He could see her stiffen up, but he went on anyway. “There is the issue about an implanted reservoir. My fiancée had one to control her diabetes. Sal had one, too — or at least he thought he had one. He showed me a scar on his abdomen. Laney? I don’t know if she had one, but it stands to reason that she did since she had diabetes, too. I suppose I should have noticed when the ultrasound was done, but I was distracted by showing Carlos the ropes. I can find out about Sal to be one hundred percent certain, since I know the name of his former primary-care doctor. Sal had me call him a couple of times. I’ll see if he has a record of it. Sal had said that he had put it in. Sal and Laney must have had one because, like Kasey, iDoc was controlling their diabetes. The only way for that to happen was for them to have implanted reservoirs.”