“A month ago I was worried about
her involvement in this and how it would affect Morgan and his family and her
sweet innocent kids. Now, I don’t even know if Morgan will make it out alive. I
live every day in fear that they’ll come back and try to finish both of us off.
I’ll do anything to end this. It’s eating me alive that Barney does not know
about this, and I don’t want anyone else getting hurt. If it will help put the
people responsible for this behind bars, I’ll do it. And if she ends up being a
part of this then so be it. Maybe she should have thought about that before she
got involved. Have you all questioned Doctor Roberts or any of the doctors at
the hospital?”
“Zoë, Doctor Roberts was found dead
in the hospital over a week ago, and Doctor Francis has been missing.”
“What?”
“Morgan didn’t tell you?”
“No. How was he killed?”
“It looks like suicide, but that’s
not confirmed. We don’t know who’s heading this, but we know how far they’re
willing to go. This is dangerous.”
“Morgan is in there fighting for
his life. It doesn’t get much worse than that.”
Phillip continues, “We’re still
trying to find out who was leading this whole charge. At first, we thought it
was Doctor Roberts. Now that he’s dead, we don’t know. It’s possible that after
they found out you and Morgan were seeing each other, he became a target, too.
Or that bullet could have simply been meant for you. But that’s speculation. We
still don’t know who Deandre might have spoken to, if anyone. We have so much
evidence to comb through. It might be a while before we piece this story
together entirely.”
“Was anyone arrested after the
accident?”
“No,” Phillip replies. “The truck
driver was questioned, but it looks like he was in the wrong place at the wrong
time. Camera evidence shows there was a third vehicle involved that hit the
brakes directly in front of the rig. It’s almost as if they were trying to
force you all under the truck. When that didn’t work, they fired at you guys.
When they heard the police coming, they tried to escape and overtake you all,
but another oncoming rig forced them to cut across in front of you. They ended
up under the truck, and their SUV exploded. The two people inside were burned
beyond recognition.”
“The same two whose bullets hit my
husband?”
“Yes.”
As it all sinks in, I massage my
forehead. I have a massive headache.
“Can we do anything else for you?”
Jada asks.
“Help me with his family. How do we
handle things with Barney? It’s been a week. If I have to make up one more story
as to why Morgan can’t come to the phone, I think it will drive me insane.”
“Try to hold him off for a few more
days. Let me head back to the office and see how quickly we can put this
operation in place.”
Later that afternoon
, I am
alone with Morgan when Dr. Davidson comes into the room.
“I realize that
your husband and his family might be involved in some sort of federal
investigation, but we need to speak to Robin Fuente,” he says.
“Why? Has
something about his condition changed?”
He hesitates, looking
sadly at me. “If he has a living will, you might want to start discussing it
with the rest of his family.”
I stare at Dr.
Davidson
waiting for a response.
He continues, “We
don’t think he is ever going to recover.”
My heart rips
from my chest as I hear his words.
“Maybe you can’t
do anymore, but can’t we try to get some experts in this area? Maybe they can
try something new. Maybe they’ll think of something you didn’t think of. I’m
sure there are other neurologists out there who can help.”
“I’m sorry. It
doesn’t look good. This is something the family needs to discuss. We, at the
hospital, need to ensure that Doctor Drake’s wishes are respected.”
“So what? You’re
just going to give up? You just want to pull the plug and let him die?”
“It’s not so much
about what I want, it’s what he wants. And right now, we need to find out his
requests. Since Robin Fuente is his next of kin, we’re guessing that she would
know what that is.”
“He’s been in a
coma for a week. Why are you even trying to discuss this now?”
“Because he’s
also a registered donor. There is a little girl out there who needs a heart,
and they think Morgan might be a match.”
“Is this some
sort of a sick joke? My husband is fighting for his life, and I’m supposed to
give up on him now to save someone else’s life? I’m sorry for this family and
this little girl, but what about Morgan’s life? What about his life with his
daughter? What about my life with him?”
“I know this is
hard, Mrs. Drake, but I think this is what he may have wanted.”
“Wanted?” I say,
rising to my feet. “You’ve already written him off. You’re talking about him in
the past tense as if he’s dead. No. It’s too soon. Morgan deserves a chance to
live like anyone else, and I don’t consider a week a chance.”
“I know this isn’t
easy, but you have to at least start the conversation about this.”
“I’ve lost
everyone I’ve ever loved. Everyone. And he is the only one I have left. Don’t
you dare try to take my husband away from me… we’ve been married for just nine
days. Please, don’t do this.”
“I’m so sorry. I’ll
give you until tomorrow. But if you don’t communicate with your sister-in-law,
you will leave me with no choice but to contact her on my own. I’m sorry, but I
have to do this.”
I look at him in
complete awe as he walks away.
I’m crushed.
Climbing into the
bed next to Morgan, I tie my arms around him. For the first time since I saw
him in this bed, I let down my positive façade and weep in his arms.”
“Babe, please
wake up.”
I want him to
tighten his arm around me.
He doesn’t.
That night, I lie
in his arms and cry for hours. I don’t know when I fell asleep, but I wake to
the sound of voices—Dr. Davidson and another doctor.
My eyes are sore
and burn from my tears. I slip off the bed and head to the bathroom for some
much-needed privacy and to get ready for the day ahead.
I know I have to
do something to save Morgan’s life and sitting around and crying is not going
to fix anything. I wash my face and brush my hair. As I do, two large clumps of
hair stay in the brush. I dismiss it and throw it in the bin. I have more
important things to think about today.
The more I think
about my conversation with Dr. Davidson last night, the angrier I get. I
realize time is against me. And even if it’s to buy time, I know I have to get
the law involved.
When I step into
the room, Dr. Davidson asks, “How are you, Mrs. Drake?”
“How would you
feel if someone wanted to end your wife’s life? That’s how I feel today. Think
about that.” I turn on my heels and walk out of the room. They follow me into the
corridor.
“This may be what
he wants. He’s a registered donor,” Dr. Davidson says.
“I don’t
understand how it’s so easy for you to give up on a patient that way. Isn’t
being a doctor all about saving lives, not taking lives?”
“That’s what we’re
trying to do for this little girl.”
“You disgust me.
You make me sick. If you expect me to lie here and let you take my husband away
from me, you had better think again. I will exhaust every avenue of the law
before I let you pull the plug on him.”
“He’s brain
dead,” the other doctor says.
I feel sick and
nauseous and the tears immediately spew form my eyes. “Suddenly he’s brain
dead?” I shout. “I don’t trust you. I don’t believe you. You need to give him
more time.”
“You realize a
little girl’s life hangs in the balance here?”
“And I’m sorry to
hear that, but what about Morgan? Why do you seem to be more concerned about
the little girl’s life than his? Is his life somehow less important because he
is a thirty-seven year old man?”
“He’s brain dead,
and he’s not coming back,” Dr. Davidson says.
In a moment of
pure rage, I swing my open palm across his cheek while the tears leave my eyes.
“Don’t you ever say that to me again!”
I feel an agent’s
arms surround my waist, and he pulls me away. I glare at them, “I’m going to
get my lawyer and the FBI over here right now, and if you try to call Robin
Fuente and hamper this federal investigation, no matter what the outcome of
this, I will sue this hospital and file a civil suit against you personally,
Doctor Davidson.” I don’t wait for him to respond, I walk away.
An hour later,
Jonathan is here with Phillip.
“The hospital
wants to pull the plug on Morgan and give his heart to a little girl.”
“Zoë, I’m so
sorry. Does he have a Durable Power Of Attorney?”
“At this point, I
don’t even know if he has a living will, but he is a registered donor. They say
he’s brain dead, and he’s not going to get better. The doctors say he won’t
ever recover. Jonathan, I’m not ready to give up. It’s too soon. I know I may
not have any legal right, but I need you to find some way to stop this from
happening, some loophole, anything. I need to buy him time. Or Phillip, you
need to find something that will stop them from calling Robin, because he
threatened to contact her himself today.”
“Let me make some
calls,” he says to Jonathan and me. “I’ll get Peters to work on a gag order.”
Phillip walks away.
“I think the FBI
might be ready for you to go see Robin, so they’ll get the hospital to be
quiet. We’ll worry about who has legal authority to make decisions about Morgan’s
life after that.”
I exhale.
“Zoë, you’re not
looking well, at all. Do you think you’re in the state of mind to do this
today?”
“Jonathan, I have
to be. This needs to be over. We need to make sure whoever is responsible is behind
bars so that I can focus on Morgan’s health and not have to worry about them
coming after him or me again.”
A while later,
Phillip
returns.
“It’s been
handled,” Phillip says. “They won’t be talking to anyone about this.”
“Great,” I
respond.
He continues, “So
here’s what we’ve found out so far—We know some of the
whos
. Seven
doctors have been receiving large sums of money deposited into offshore bank
accounts from the hospital. Of the seven doctors, one committed suicide, one is
missing and the other five have been arrested. There’s a warrant out for the
missing doctor. They poisoned patients so they would be forced to have
tracheotomies. The pay-out was huge.”
“What about
Robin?” I ask. “How does she fit into all this?”
“That’s where you
come in. She is not on payroll at the hospital, but we found out that she
receives large sums of money from the hospital under the term
consultant
.
Yet, she was there, and according to you and the camera evidence that backs up
your statement, she was the one who brought in these falsified documents. We
need you to try to find out what they were paying her for. She’s not a surgeon,
so we can’t figure out any other reason for her to be there, other than the
documents. Because her hands appear clean, we suspect she’s near the top. Get
others to do the dirty work, if you know what I mean.”
“Okay.”
“Are you ready?”
“You want to do
this now?” I ask.
“Yes. We have a
team on standby that will get you dressed and accessorized with hidden mikes
and cameras. We also found out that she’s home alone. Her husband and the kids
are in L.A., so now will be a good opportunity.”
Two hours later,
after taking me home to pick up my car, Phillip travels with me. He coaches me
as we take the fifteen minute drive to her house.
“I’ll be in the
back of that service van across the street. It’s loaded with agents, so if for
any reason you feel threatened or you feel something is wrong the code phrase
is…”
“
I can’t do
this with you anymore
,” I respond.
“Great. And don’t
forget, we’ll be able to see what you see, and hear what you hear.”
“I got it. Just
let me get this over and done with.”
I get out of the
vehicle, which I parked on the street, ring the doorbell and make sure my
clothing is in order while I wait. I’m beginning to think she’s not here, but
the FBI has had this place under surveillance, and they say she is. Eventually,
the door opens. She pokes her head through.
“Zoë, Hi. What
are you doing here?”
“I need a moment
to talk with you,” I respond calmly.
“Now is not a
good time.”
“With all due
respect Robin, it will have to be. This is about Morgan and your family.”
“Can you come
back later?”
“No, I can’t.”
Hesitantly, she
opens the door and lets me into the house. It’s only then I realize she’s
wearing a robe and her hair is wet. I guess I pulled her out of the shower.
“I think you and
I both know why I’m here,” I say, following her as she leads the way to her
great room.
“Zoë, what’s
going on between Morgan and me is our business,” she says, sitting at her
kitchen island.
“That may be true,
but that’s not what I’m talking about. You were with Doctor Roberts when he
gave me those autopsy results at Mount Sierra after my brother died.”
She remains
silent for a second.
“Are you going to
deny it?”
“No.” She laughs.
“I hadn’t remembered until now.”
Liar!
“Do you want to
know something really strange? From the day you and Doctor Roberts gave me that
report, my life has turned upside down.”
“And what does
that have to do with me?”
“Someone has
attempted to kill me on several occasions.”
“Zoë, I’m sorry
all that has happened to you, but I don’t see how this is related to me.”
“Don’t play dumb,
Robin. I know.”
“Know what?”
“I know the
results you and Doctor Roberts gave me were fake.”
“I have no idea
what you’re talking about.”
“Really, Robin?
Is that how it’s going to be?”
“I want you to
leave,” she says, slipping off the stool.
“I have one thing
to say to you then I’ll go. Two days after I got that report from you, someone
attempted to kill me at my office. Then someone burned down my house. Then
someone tried to come after me at your brother’s house. Someone even shot after
us while we were on his boat and Abby was there. And you want to know what
happened on New Year’s Day? We were driving home, from a party, my
three-day-old husband—your brother—and me, and someone fired shots at us. A
bullet hit Morgan, and he’s now in a coma, fighting for his life. You still
want to tell me that that had nothing to do with this?”
“What? Oh my God.
Where is he?” She lowers herself on the stool once more.
“I’m not going to
tell you that, because quite frankly, I don’t trust you. I don’t trust the
people you associate with, and I can’t be certain that you won’t tell someone
who wants to hurt him or me.”
“What happened to
him? What were his injuries?”
“He was shot in
the neck.”
“Oh my God,” she
says, burying her face into her open hands.
“If you have any
shred of decency left in your body, tell me why this is happening in my life.
Tell me who these people are and why they’re after me. Because if you don’t,
Morgan or I may not be around much longer. I know you don’t give a shit about
me, but he’s your brother. And just in case anything happens to me, the police
know everything, including the fact that you were present and delivered the
false documents about the death of my brother.”
“I don’t know
anything.”
“Where did you
get the documents?”
“A friend asked
me to deliver them.”
“Who? What’s your
friend’s name? What’s their address? I’ll go talk to them myself.”
She hesitates.
Maybe I need to lay a guilt trip on her.
I soften my
voice. “Robin, my brother died, and I still don’t know how or understand why.
Someone tried to kill me on numerous occasions, and now, a bullet that I
suspect was meant for me hit your only brother. We’d just gotten married. What
do I have to do to get this to stop? Who is doing this?”
“Where is the
paperwork?” she asks.
“What paperwork?”
“The ones you
took from Doctor Roberts’s office?”
So it was the
folder that started this…
“Took? You say
that as if I stole it. He gave it to me. Either way, what difference does it
make? It was destroyed when my house was flattened by the fire.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m
sure. I lost everything I owned. Everything that was left from my family is
gone. Robin, you have to tell me why this is happening.”
“You don’t
understand,” she cries.
“Make me
understand. This morning, the doctors told me that Morgan would never recover,
that he was brain dead. How many more people have to get hurt?”
“It was never
supposed to turn out like this,” she cries. “I never meant for anyone to get
hurt.”