Leaf slipped his hand down his boxer briefs and gently massaged himself while he waited. Time passed, during which he thought about the night ahead but also reflected on the incredibly rapid rise of Hub Health. Exclusion was the key, he had told his partners when they were first starting out-careful screening of applicants and their lab work, and rejection for any reason of those likely to cost Hub significant sums in the short or long haul. Preexisting condition was their watchword. The finance people had told him that Hub stock absolutely couldn’t miss, and he was going to have a bundle of it.
At precisely the time they had agreed upon, there was a light knock on the door. Leaf’s lingering fear that the young beauty might not show instantly evaporated.
“Come in, it’s open,” he said, trying for a cadence and tone of voice that was something of a cross between Bill Clinton and Sting.
The door swung open. A man slipped into the room and closed the door quickly behind him. He was wearing a black motorcycle jacket and a baseball cap with the brim pulled low enough to obscure his eyes, and he was carrying a small orange pillow.
Leaf, hardened against panic by years in the neurosurgical OR and convinced that, whatever the situation, money could cure it, glared at the intruder.
“What the fuck is this? Where’s Kristin?”
“Kristin is back where I found her, turning tricks for rich, horny men like you.”
“So what is this, some sort of shakedown? How much do you want? Take what’s in my wallet, then get the fuck out of here.”
“What this is, you self-centered jerk, is payback time.”
“Wait. . do I know you?”
The man merely shook his head.
“You do now,” he said. “That’s for sure, and I don’t think you’ll ever forget me.”
Calmly, he withdrew a pistol from his waistband and jammed it into the pillow.
“No! Please, wait. I can pay you anything-anything y-”
The three rapid shots, from eight feet, were deadly accurate. Heart, throat, forehead-straight up the line.
Leaf saw the hole materialize in the pillow and felt the scalding heat of the shots as they entered his body. But slumped back against the bloody pillow, his head twisted grotesquely to one side, he never saw the man extract a plain white business envelope and carefully set it beneath the palm of his right hand.
CHAPTER 17
EXCELSIUS HEALTH CANCER CENTER
Cancer. The word, while carved into the granite archway identically to the other three words, and highlighted in gold like the others, stood out as if the others did not exist. In spite of herself, Grace Peng Davis paused on the sidewalk and stared up at the letters through a raw drizzle.
Sticks and stones can break my bones, but names can never hurt me. Well, she thought viciously, this one can.
It was Grace’s first day of chemotherapy for the cancerous nodule that Susan Hollister had removed from her breast. Dr. Max D’Antonio, the oncologist, had assured her that there was really no rush to begin the treatments, but both she and her husband wanted the tumor out and gone and any remaining vagabond cells blasted with poison as soon as was possible. IV Adriamycin and Cytoxan every three weeks, Dr. D’Antonio had told them-two drugs that were toxic to every cell in the body, but more so to those that were rapid multipliers, especially cancer cells. In between visits to the clinic, she would be taking oral medication, as well.
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
Courage to change the things I can,
And the wisdom to know the difference.
Grace had been exposed to the Serenity Prayer at her first AA meeting more than a decade ago but had never paid it more than lip service until, with Dr. Will Grant’s help, she finally connected with people who helped her get honest with herself about her alcoholism. Now, although her life was in remarkable order, it wasn’t unusual for her to recite the prayer to herself every ten minutes when she needed to get through difficult situations.
God grant me the serenity. .
Mark Davis took his wife’s arm and guided her into the building.
“You’re doing great,” he whispered.
They both knew how fearful she was and always had been of doctors and hospitals. And although the cancer center was a glittering, modern outpatient clinic, with comfortable furniture and dazzling artwork on the walls, it was more of a hospital than she would ever care to see.
Only Mark would ever fully appreciate how anxious she had been about having her surgery done by a doctor she didn’t even know. It was such a blessing that day to have run into Dr. Grant the way they did, and later such a terrible blow to learn that his license had been suspended because of drugs. But Dr. Hollister had helped soften the blow by being kind and patient with both Grace and Mark, and best of all, she unabashedly supported Dr. Grant’s claim that he was innocent.
The receptionist, a prim young Hispanic woman with Carla on her name tag, greeted her warmly, then handed her a clipboard with some forms attached.
“I already filled these out,” Grace said, “when I came here to meet Dr. D’Antonio.”
“Oh, I remember who you are,” the woman said, “but these aren’t our registration forms. They have to do with transferring your insurance from Steadfast Health to Excelsius Health.”
“Transferring my insurance?”
“I guess you hadn’t heard. Excelsius has taken over your insurance company. We were told that the change has been in the works for a long time, and that Steadfast Health had sent out a mailing.”
“We had heard there might be a change when we were initially sent here for Grace’s mammogram,” Mark said, “but we had no idea Steadfast Health had actually been taken over already, and we certainly didn’t get a mailing. You didn’t know anything about this, Grace, did you?. . Grace?”
“Huh?. . Oh, no. No, I didn’t know Steadfast Health had actually been taken over already. We had heard there might be a change.”
Grace, battling a sudden wave of anxiety, was unaware that she had used her husband’s exact words. At three that morning she had been awakened by a similar episode of panic, but after half an hour or so, she was able to fall back to sleep.
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change. .
She tried to ignore the perspiration in her groin and soaking into her dress beneath her arms. No big deal, she told herself. Dr. D’Antonio had given her medication to help her relax for her treatment. Phyllis, her AA sponsor, had assured her that taking the sedation was definitely the right thing to do. If this was as bad as her anxiety was going to get, she could handle it. Nobody told her getting chemotherapy was going to be pleasant.
“Well, that’s what we’ve been informed,” Carla was saying cheerfully. “As of today, Steadfast Health is part of Excelsius. We have lots of Steadfast Health clients here. All of them are being given the choice of switching to Excelsius or changing to another company. If you choose to go to another company, your chemotherapy will be turned over to whatever doctor your new HMO allows you to select.”
“Thank you,” Mark said.
They retreated to seats in the waiting area and filled in the form authorizing the transfer of their coverage to Excelsius.
“Good thing we checked into this last week,” Mark said. “I would have hated to have to change doctors. . Hon, are you all right? You don’t look good.”