Dr. Stephens had texted me while I had been driving in to make an appearance in his office before starting my appointments for the day. It didn’t come as a surprise to me; he didn’t know how to handle difficult situations. I didn’t detour from my path going up to his office, no matter how much I needed to see her again. If I prioritized her over my boss, suspicions certainly would have beenraised.
I knocked on his door, only to find him more disheveled than I had ever seen him, as he opened it quickly. His suit was rumpled from too much movement, his hair sticking up from where he had run his hands through it multiple times. The phone on his desk was blinking to let him know he had voicemails that still needed to be heard.
“Daxton, what the hell is going on?” He forewent any pleasantries as he stood aside to let me into his office.
“What do you mean?” I asked calmly. He was wound up enough for both of us.
“Three suicides in the past few months, three! The board of directors is going to want answers.”
“No hospital is without risk, you know that.” Consoling him was almost second nature. Between Jessica and I, we had our work cut out for us just coddling him when he needed it more than the patients did. “If someone is determined to end their life, they’ll find a way no matter how many precautions we put in place to try and prevent it.”
“Three, Daxton, three! After years without incident, that’s three deaths in less than six months. At minimum, they’re going to want corrective action.”
“Who was on duty last night?” I asked innocently, I knew the answer, and I also knew he was going to take the fall whether I said something or not. Using him to cover my ass wouldn’t hurthim any more than what he would have inevitably brought upon himself.
“Darrell. I’ve already sent him home suspended without pay. Cindy caught him sleeping again when she clocked in this morning.”
“He may have been sleeping, but that doesn’t mean he had anything to do with a suicide.”
“No, but he’s going to be under investigation for falsifying medical documents. The coroner said, judging by Everett's liver temperature, he had been dead for several hours. What does that tell you?” Dr. Stephen's agitation only grew more pronounced as he spoke.
“He either wasn’t doing the mandatory headcounts or he was skipping over Everett.”
“Exactly, either option doesn’t bode well for him and his employment here. I need to call his lawyer, you spoke with him recently, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I also informed him of Brandon's increasing guilt over what happened to his niece. He didn’t seem overly concerned, and even though Brandon had spoken about dying, he didn’t seem to think he was being serious.”
“What were your thoughts?”
“That we were already doing everything in our power for him. The hospital isn’t perfect, and a man like Mr. Everett isn’t predictable. Even in solitary confinement or under a complete suicidewatch, if he wanted to end his life, he would have found a way or waited until he was out of the more controlled environment. You’re not a newbie doctor, you know it’s part of the risk with mental health.” He continued pacing behind his desk as I spoke.
“There will have to be an investigation into the incident. The coroner said it’s plain as day he hanged himself, so unless his power of attorney or any family members come forward wanting to push for an autopsy, they’re not going to be performing one.”
“Smart move not wasting resources on a matter that’s pretty much black and white.” Feeding into Dr. Stephen's ego might as well have been in the job description to work at the clinic.
“You’ll be available if his lawyer has any questions?”
“I’m at your beck and call, sir. Since he was court-appointed, I doubt he will care what happens since he wasn’t getting paid to take on this case.”
“Right, you’re probably right, Daxton. Jessica is taking over until Collins arrives. He wasn’t on schedule until tomorrow, but Cindy is unable to work after finding the body.”
“We’ll do whatever we can to get through this together—we’re a team.”
“Thank you, Daxton, you’ve always had a good head on your shoulders.”
“Anything to help out, I’m sure it will work out in the end.”
It was impossible to minimize the stress Dr. Stephen put upon himself. An investigation would be done against Darrell, and asmuch as I hated to say it, the poor man brought it upon himself. He needed help with his addiction, and though his late-night naps made it easier for me to enjoy my self-appointmented second job, he was never going to be a permanent fixture at the clinic. It would be more challenging in the future if another individual managed to slip through the cracks in our corrupt justice system. Challenging but far from impossible.
Darrell just made it easier to get away with; the thought of a new challenge was exciting. If I cared more about my boss, I would have considered giving him a break to save him the hair loss; however, I couldn’t find it in myself to be concerned about it. I had patients who needed me, patients who couldn’t stand up for themselves or find their voice against their abusers. Dr. Stephen’s stress was just a side effect of what needed to be done for the greater good; he’d survive the struggle.
My blood heated as I locked myself in my office, my dick hardening as I thought back to the events of last night. Raelynn would be my first appointment of the day, and I couldn’t fucking wait to lay eyes on her. I tried to remind myself that I needed to have some form of therapy with her today. I wanted to talk to her as much as I wanted to sink myself into her again.
Thinking about how her eyes lit up at the sight of his body hanging from the sheet had me fighting to keep my erection down. I couldn’t start her therapy by wanting to fuck her. As much as I wanted to own her body, I wanted her to be ableto ask me whatever she wanted, I wanted her to know that it was more than just some casual post homicide hook up simply because I was attracted to her. I needed her to have that kind of trust in me.
While waiting on my appointment time with her, I did the routine of gathering any and all notes I had made on Brandon during his stay. I wasn’t required to hand them over. It would help not only make sure suspicion never fell in my direction and ease some of the ridiculous stress Dr Stephen’s put himself through. My notes may not have been truthful, but they were thorough and would paint the perfect story.
Pulling everything I had on Brandon took most of the early morning. Once I had realized he was guilty and would never have any remorse for what he had done to his niece, it was easy to keep up the charade with his file. Soon his death would be forgotten, just another note in the system, his body would probably be given a popper’s burial if he was even going to be shown that respect.
