An officious voice came over the line, "Can I ask what this is about?"
"Please, he'll take my call." Elizabeth waited.
"Hello, little girl. How are you? I just asked your daddy about you last week. I'm so sorry about your momma."
"Thank you, Tibby. How are you and the girls?" Elizabeth spoke to her father's former aide in a warm tone.
"Danielle is home from college. Can you believe she finished her sophomore year? Trip Mathias and she are engaged. You remember him. He's on Silverton PD now. Stay posted for an invitation. He wants her to finish school first." Twenty years older than Danielle, Trip was formerly employed by her father. "Mary and Amy are in high school. Life is terrific. Tell me, what can I do for you?" the assistant director of the Silverton Department of Corrections asked.
"I'm sorry, Tibby. Time got away from me."
"I understand. Daddy's proud of you. Your momma was too."
"I’m not sure how best to say this. I found a pattern with some inmates sent here from the Silverton Jail. They appear to be abusive injuries."
"Hmmm. What makes you say that? Did they tell you they’re being abused?"
"No, never. They show bruises in multiple stages of healing. A couple of the women showed signs of sexual abuse. All had round bruises resembling the end of a flashlight."
"Little girl, jails are dangerous places. There are overcrowding, violence, and mental illness. Contrary to what you would think, most sexual activity in prisons is consensual. I'm not saying abuse can't happen. Our employees are well trained and responsible. For you, I’ll reach out to the director and review your thoughts. Honey, I appreciate you telling me."
“I'm sorry to call you over only this. Please say hi to the girls. Perhaps we can meet for dinner one night."
“That’s a superb idea. Give me your number, and I’ll ask the director to contact you with any information."
"Thanks, Tibby." Elizabeth read off her office number.
Thibodaux Spooner walked into the office next to his where Clay Jenner was talking on the phone. "Gorgeous, I gotta go. I'll talk to you later.” He frowned at his assistant. "This better be important, barreling in here."
"Oh, this is very important. Guess who called?"
"What, are we playing twenty questions? Who?"
"A sweet girl found signs of prisoner abuse. Elizabeth Reed. I destroyed two of her letters. She's a dog with a bone. Now she called."
"Hmm, I'll be happy to force my bone down her throat. I'll handle Elizabeth Reed."
Elizabeth sat daydreaming, looking at the clouds floating in the sky through her office window when her door flew open.
"You didn't think to call for that patient? I had to find out from Hillinger."
Elizabeth's secretary mouthed "Sorry" at Randall Knox's stampede through her door.
"Randy, come in, and we can talk," Elizabeth put her hands flat on her desk. "We tried to call you even though you said you were unreachable."
"You let my patient die," Randy railed at her. Strong hands covered hers, pinning her. "You saved the dead cop but couldn't save the kid with a heartbeat?"
Elizabeth yanked her hands away, getting scratched in the process. "I let her die? For God's sake, I opened her chest and abdomen to try to save her. Her heart tore in my hand. You took the appendix, didn't clean the belly with diligence, and never ran the remaining bowel or performed a pregnancy test. You killed her," Elizabeth yelled back. "What I don't understand is why? Of all the people to take chances with, Viola Dufour?"
He loomed over the desk. "Pregnancy test? She and her father denied any activity!"
"Are you gullible? Since when do you listen to a menstrual age girl's father? Standard of care, you learned that, right? And a teenager? They lie."
"She said she didn't have her period in two years!"
"Did you go to medical school? How do you explain the six-week-old fetus in her right tube? The Holy Spirit didn't visit Viola Dufour. The OB resident found her tender and signs of old tearing. Ding, ding, ding: sexual activity. The ER ordered the pregnancy test, and you canceled it because you didn't want to wait the extra hour to take her to the OR. Does that sound right to you? What were you missing? A hot lay? The autopsy will show every one of your missteps."
"You bitch. I'll tell you what sounds right: you are the one going down for this, Beth. I will make sure. You butchered her in the room."
